When Opportunity Knocks

"You're gonna smoke a turd in purgatory for that one beeyatch."

Matt was freaking out as he hit send on that last message, responding back to his future ex-best friend Talia Brooks who had just texted him to join her at lunch, that she had news about his *lover boy* Blake Wiley.

It had been five days since that bizarre *double date* when she had fixed him up with Blake Wiley last Friday.

It had gone pretty much as he had expected it to. Actually, that wasn't true, he hadn't really fully expected Blake to even be there, and though it had been a rather complete shock when she showed up at his house Friday, a little after seven PM to pick him up, that he found Blake Wiley was indeed sitting in the back seat of the Mystery Machine giving him a rather subdued, half grin and a "hey wuzzup" as he slid into the back seat next to him.

As for the rest of the evening? Awkward couldn't begin to describe it.

By the time they made it to the drive-in, found a spot to Talia's liking, and got settled in, he was already feeling like the odd man out, and not having a clue what to say or how to fit into the constant banter between Blake and Roger, who continuously talked about slammed out rice burners with slush boxes compared to full stick growlers with phat ass-end cans.

It got to the point that he thought that maybe Roger should have been sitting where he was since he and Blake seemed to have more in common and with far more interest in each other than either him or Talia.

An observation Talia seemed to share causing her to finally groan loudly: "Bored now!" right before getting out of the vehicle and asking Matt if he wanted to hit the concession stand with her so the boys could have some *quality time alone to seal their bromance.*

It came as little surprise when the guys filed in right beside them, with Roger throwing his arm around Talia's shoulder and offering up a tepid: "Sorry babe" while leaving Matt and Blake to walk pensively a few steps behind them.

Matt had hoped the awkwardness would end between him and Blake when Blake ordered a large tub of popcorn for the two of them and a couple of soft drinks. But despite Matt's best efforts to strike up a conversation with Blake, all he seemed to manage to get from him was a few grunts, a couple of uh-huh's, and a few furtive, side-eye glances for his trouble. That was, until later, during the middle of the movie when their hands accidentally met in the popcorn tub, and instead of yanking his hand away, as Matt had half expected him to, they sort of tentatively lingered, just long enough for Matt to realize it wasn't just incidental, which was confirmed when Blake set the half-empty tub down on in his lap and rest his left hand right up against Matt's.

To Matt's chagrin, they actually did the side by side pinky dance thing, before Blake's hand gently crossed over his right hand and gripped it gently.

The sheer juvenile adolescent ridiculousness of it kind of both amused and endeared him to the fiddly unwieldiness of the situation. That and the fact, during the entire thing, Blake either feigned a deep interest in what was happening on screen at the time or he was genuinely engrossed by the two teenage female leads discussing how stupid boys were.

Either way, Matt doubted either Talia or Roger could have told anyone what the movie was even about since they seemed far more interested in sucking each other's faces and groping each other, rather than who did what in the B grade dramadey playing out right in front of them.

Though little else happened between him and Blake that night, it was still far more than Matt had expected. He would have considered it at least a minor plus if it wasn't for the fact that Blake seemed to go right back to ignoring him every day at school, despite him making several attempts's to engage him in casual conversation in their two shared classes, where he was met with the usual "uh-huhs" or "Did you say sumthin'?" if he bothered responding at all.

Hardly indicative of someone who was supposedly interested in him, and more than perplexing when Talia had told him Blake said he had a good time and was up for doing it again sometime.

"Thanks, but no thanks..." Matt huffed in-between bites of his baloney and mustard sandwich during lunch Wednesday afternoon while sitting across from a very animated and vexed Talia who was trying her best to get him to agree to a second date with Blake.
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe he's just really shy?" Talia fumed back at him, before adding: "It's not like you have other boys lining up at your front door dude."

Wishing she would just drop it, Matt retorted: "If Blake wants a second date then he can ask himself" adding with a hint of annoyance in his voice: "Minus the live sex show chaperones this time around, thank you very much!"

"Well, at least I'm getting some, which is more than I can say for someone else I know!" Talia bristled back at him, throwing all the side-eyed shade she could muster.

Matt had to catch himself from nearly spouting his after-class experience with James Hatcher back at her, realizing what a really bad idea that would have been if she even slightly suspected what had transpired between them last Friday.

Which was something else that was annoying Matt. He had encountered Hatch several times that week and not so much as a peep out of him about what they did, not even his usual demeaning banter he always found a way of snidely slipping in when the coach wasn't looking during their afternoon workouts.

"Well excuse me for not being as big a ho as you are Ms.Thang." Matt chuffed back at her.

Talia burst out laughing: "Who do you think your kidding, you'da had half the dicks in this school if they weren't all so afraid of their buddies thinking they were big ol mo's for do'in it."

Matt just grinned back at her before noting glibly: "Right now, I'd settle for just one."

Frowning slightly, nodding her head, Talia queried: "Then why not give Blake one more shot, what do you have to lose?"

Matt looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, shaking his head side to side, before looking up at her: "I've already stated my conditions, Talia, I'm not going to change my mind about this, no matter how many times you bat your eyes at me."

Talia slammed her right hand down on the table, before grabbing her books and getting up: "Then I guess I better get to work plying my charms on Mr. Wiley then!" offering Matt one last wink and a cocky smile before heading off, back toward the school.

                                                             <<<<<>>>>>

The afternoon droned along as per usual. If Talia had *plied her charms* on Blake Wiley before their fifth-period social studies class, they had been ineffectual, evidenced by his usual lack of acknowledgment of his very existence.

The fact that Blake wouldn't even make eye contact with him when he said hi as he went to sit down in his usual spot right in front of him, had rubbed Matt the wrong way that afternoon, and instead of sitting there, he decided to go across the room to the far side and take up a vacant seat in front of one of the windows, and began enjoying the view, not even bothering to glance over to see if Blake had even noticed the change.

It was while sitting there, staring off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts, that Matt slowly became aware of the subtle changes in himself.

Normally he would be obsessing and judging himself over something like Blake ignoring him, and while he didn't know whether it was a result of the very visible changes his body was undergoing due to his new exercise regime or the cumulative effect of the supplements Dr. Ventrov had been giving him, it seemed Matt's whole outlook was changing, and things like Blake Wiley ignoring him, as usual, just seemed somehow less important.

By the end of his fifth-period class, as far as Matt was concerned, it was Blake's loss and he wasn't going to waste his time giving it another thought.

Matt's newfound sense of self-confidence continued right on through the rest of the afternoon, even into his workout routine after classes.

He didn't usually do much in the weight room with the rest of the guys, preferring the more aerobic ones the coach had set up for him, but today's boost in self-esteem had motivated him to try out a couple of the weight machines the four other guys weren't using at the time.

It was while he was trying out the seated leg curl machine that he noticed all the other guys had stopped and been checking him out, that is until he stopped to stare back at them, causing the four to break out laughing before returning to their own routines, with one exception...

James Hatcher sat right across from him using the lat pull-down machine, pumping away shirtless, covered in a thick patina of sweat, wearing only a loose pair of red gym shorts as he smiled back at him with his usual cocky sneer supplanting his facial expressions.

The difference today, however, Matt stared back, all the while daydreaming how much better the whole scenario would be if Hatcher was completely naked while he pumped away at the overhead bar.

To Matt's surprise, a few seconds later, Hatch scooted himself to the edge of the bench and while never missing a beat as he furiously pumped at the lat bar overhead, he had spread his legs wide and thrust his crotch over the end of the bench causing his cock and balls to flop out through the leg hole of his skimpy shorts, fully exposing his large, hefty genitals to him, all the while leering lasciviously back at him.

Matt didn't even give the pretense of looking away, he continued enjoying the view, taking it in, grinning back at Hatch, licking his lips suggestively as he also continued to pump away at the leg machine, thinking all the while he would enjoy nothing more than crawling across the floor right now and not only stuffing his fat, limp dick into his mouth and suck it to life, but also imagined himself licking every drop of sweat off his glistening, muscular jock bod.

But, as luck would have it, Coach Myers chose that moment to come sauntering into the room, clipboard in hand and announcing loudly it was time to wrap things up and hit the showers.

By the time Matt thought to shoot a look back at Hatch, he had already tucked his junk away, out of sight, and seemed to have lost all interest as he proceeded to completely ignore Matt altogether, making a beeline for the locker room with the others.

Matt was so horny, he was half tempted to follow after them while trying to imagine some way he could corner Hatcher alone and stuff that big dick down his throat and suck every drop of nut juice out of his big bloated hairy redneck balls.

But once again, Coach Myers had other ideas and motioned for Matt to join him in his office.

Matt could barely contain his frustration as he nearly stomped his way after the coach, stopping only long enough to snatch up a towel to dry his sweating brow with, before tossing it over his shoulder and resuming his trek to the coaches office.

Without even bothering to shut the office door or seek permission to sit down, Matt plopped himself unceremoniously onto the leather couch of to the side, where he usually sat when they had one of these little confabs.

If the coach had noticed his agitated state, he was choosing to ignore it as he rummaged through some paperwork on his desk looking for something, leaving Matt to study and enjoy the sight of the muscle stretched fabric of his white pullover short-sleeved shirt and skin-tight, dark blue, mid-thigh poly-blend shorts, from behind.

It still amazed Matt, that such thin fabrics could contain or restrain from view the steely chords of such primed and massively pumped muscle, and for the second time that day, he found himself wondering what it would be like to crawl over to someone on his hands and knees and worship at the altar of his sublime masculinity, wishing for nothing more than to rip those clothes off for the presumptive offense of daring to conceal such sculpted perfection.

As the coach leaned across his desk in his continued search, his huge glutes, hamstrings, quads, and calve muscles bulged obscenely, practically beckoning Matt to bury his face between his melon-sized, massive bubble-butt and lose himself inside his musky, hirsute trench.

Once again and all to quickly, Coach Myers interrupted his sordid reverie by whipping around suddenly and thrusting a folder in his direction, before leaning his ass against his desk with his arms folded over his chest while his ruggedly handsome face stared down at him with a cocky half-grin: "Things have been progressing so well, the Doc and I've decided to start expanding the scope of the focus group to include the entire senior football team next semester."

Matt knew, without looking at the list in the preface of the folder, that it would expand their number to twelve in total, and while coming as no surprise, he did find himself wondering once again, how they were expecting him to keep a handle on all these guys when he still couldn't even engage the four they had in a simple conversation.

The coach must have guessed what he was thinking, responding, before he could even vocalize his concerns: "The Doc's follow-up evals have revealed you've nearly reached the threshold where he feels you should now start being able to exert some low-level controls. I've decided to start you on some one on one meditations with each of the guys in a secured room I've set up in an old equipment supply storage next to the weight room, so you can practice on your focus and see if you can hone and develop your skills.

After handing him the folder, Coach waved him off toward the open door as he swung around to his desk to take a seat, indicating their meeting was over, and as Matt got up and crossed the room and nearly made it through the doorway, the Coach shouted after him: "I've scheduled Hunter for your first session tomorrow directly after your classes, so be prepared to stay over a little longer than usual."

Matt felt a little surge of anxiety sweep over him at the thought of being sealed alone with Hunter Milsbane in a supply room and began to wonder if maybe, just maybe if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

                                                                <<<<<>>>>>

Laying there spread across his bed, absentmindedly tapping the eraser of his number two pencil against the tip of his nose, studying the various mental focus techniques outlined in the folder the coach had given him, Matt nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt and heard the sound of his buzzing phone next to him.

Snatching it up quickly, knowing full well there could be only one person who would be calling him at nearly six-thirty in the evening, he didn't even look at the flashing name on the screen of his cell phone: "Hiya Talia wuzzup?" he mused, as he still perused the tantric guide section of the folder, before nearly shooting his phone hand fully out at the loud screech emanating from his phone: "What did you do to Blake?"

Matt scrunched his nose up, giving his phone a quizzical stare as he flipped it to speaker mode, responding: "I didn't DO anything..." he began, adding quickly: "Other than change seats in our fifth-period class after he completely ghosted me after I said hi to him."

"Did you ever think he might not have heard ya dipshit, cause he was pretty upset when I talked to him.." she paused for a second before adding: "He thinks you hate him, said you charged right out of class afterward and wouldn't even look at him."

That was rich, Matt thought to himself, rolling his eyes before saying: "Talia, he's ignored me all week long, never saying so much as boo the entire time, if he's upset by what I did, then that's just to f'ing bad"

He could hear her huffing over the phone, building up to one of her usual rants: "Listen, Talia, I'm busy right now and I am so over this whole Blake BS, so unless there's something else you wanna discuss, I'm gonna get back to it."

Matt knew he was giving her the bums rush, but he also knew that if he stayed on the phone with her, she would try to guilt-trip him into agreeing to whatever she was cooking up in her little matchmaking scheme and he just wasn't in the mood for it and just told her he'd see her tomorrow, saying goodbye and hung up.

He hoped she wouldn't be too pissed, but he also needed her to respect his boundaries. As far as Matt was concerned, the whole Blake thing was settled but he also knew what Talia could be like when she built up a head of steam and he found himself wondering if that's exactly what was happening with Blake.

At this point, he could just imagine her getting it in her head that the two of them would make a cute couple and so now she was doing her level best to push Blake into something he didn't really want and the poor guy was just feeding her lines just to get her off his back.

Either way, he was done, dusted and over it all, and had better things to do with his time than to pine after some straight guy Talia had in her head she could fix him up with.

Luckily, his dower thoughts were interrupted when his brother, who had just made it home from wrestling practice, came bounding up the stairs to his room, and as usual, was making enough noise for a herd of rampaging elephants.

Matt knew that his brother's arrival would soon signal dinner time and he decided to turn the lights out in his room, lay on his bed, and take a few quiet moments to practice his meditation/focus exercises.

At first, he didn't know what to concentrate on. The instructions in his folder had said to visualize a certain, desired behavior and try to picture his chosen target acting out the selected action.

The problem was, he didn't have anyone to focus his attention on, at least not until his brother flipped on the light to their conjoined bathroom, and turned on the shower, adjusting it to his desired temperature, before stepping back, with his back to Matt, who could see most of what was happening through the half-opened door to his room, and began stripping off his clothes, and shoving them into the laundry hamper.

Typical of his brother Brian to be oblivious of his surroundings, especially where their shared space was concerned, so Matt didn't see any harm in attempting to use his brother as a guinea pig for his initial test run.

Starting out, he tried to picture his brother doing jumping jacks, concentrating as hard as he could, squinting his eyes, and picturing his brother obeying his mental suggestion, willing his brother into action.

Nada, of course.

Matt watched his muscular naked brother, from a nearly perfect three-quarter point of view, as he proceeded to nearly straddle the toilet, holding his limp dick in his right hand as he let loose a hard stream of piss that splashed into the white porcelain bowl noisily.

It was then he recalled how the meditation/focus literature suggested starting with something simple, suggesting something basic like anger, sadness or fear.

Laying there, while looking at his brother's broad muscle rippling back and his large tight glutes and thick slightly hairy thighs, did elicit one strong emotion. One not mentioned on the list of suggestions, but one that was just as primordial and instinctual as the others. Lust!

Or more precisely, horniness. Matt had that to spare and was probably the easiest one to concentrate on since it was something he experienced more than anything else, especially after spending the latter part of his afternoon picturing James Hatcher's prodigious endowments dangling suggestively off the edge of the Lat bench earlier that afternoon.

The image was practically etched in his mind's eye in clear vivid detail and it was his desire to stroke Hatcher's fat dick to full erection that he pictured now, pushing his will into the ether that spanned the short distance between him and his brother, willing his lusty desire to sexually stimulate himself at his unsuspecting brother.

As his trickling piss came to a close, Matt half expected his brother to just veer off and jump into the shower, none the wiser to what Matt felt was merely wishful thinking on his part. That was when he noticed his Brian still hadn't moved from his spot.

In all the years they had roomed next to each other, Matt had never seen his brothers erect cock, let alone witness him jacking off, but as he continued to picture and focus his will to that aim, he nearly gasped with surprise when his older sibling began doing just that.

He didn't exactly have the best perspective from where he lay, but he could see the motions his brother's right arm was making and knew exactly what it was he was doing, made doubly so, when Brian threw his head back, his eyes closed, thrusting his hips out as his right arm squeezed in tightly to his side and his body began to jostle with the furious motion of his unseen right hand.

Matt could feel his own cock begin to erect in his pants, straining against his bulging fly as the head of his cock peeked out above his waistband only to drool out a dollop of pre-cum against the fine, blond hairs of his treasure trail.

He resisted the urge to undo his blue jeans, choosing instead to use his mounting lust to will his brother to turn around and sit on the toilet, spread his legs wide, and stroke his meat to completion.

Seconds later, Matt got his second big shock of the evening, when his brother did just that.

As cock's go, Brian's was almost as impressive as Hatcher's, though uncut like his own, compared to Hatches trimmed hood.

His sibling was very much like a younger version of their Dad, though not as hairy. He did have a nice smattering of fur on his chest and belly and of course over his forearms, thighs, and calves; a nice light chocolate brown like their Dad's, unlike Matt who took after their mother, which meant he was golden blond, and slightly curly.

Brian had what Matt called a Roman-style haircut, nearly buzz cut on the sides and only a little longer on top, combed toward the front with really short messy bangs, just like that guy in that Gladiator movie that Brian liked so much.

At six feet one inch, he stood a good two inches shorter than their Dad, but was broader and more muscular, though their dad was no slouch either, having been a football player in his day, both in high school and college, and had since tried to maintain his physical appearance as best he could, working out with their Mom five nights a week in the small home gym they had set up in the basement.

It's where Matt would work out a couple of times a week after school, though not to bulk up like his brother or Dad, just to keep himself toned and in shape.

Matt heard his brother begin to moan a little more loudly and could tell by the way his thick thighs began to tense and his toes began to curl, that Brian was getting close to an orgasm.

It was then, that Matt wondered if he had actually willed this into occurring or whether it was just a lucky bit of happenstance, before deciding to give it a go, just to see if he could *turn it off* now that his brother approached that point of no return.

Picturing it in his head once again, imagining it like the shutting off of a running spigot and willing it across the room at his brother, concentrating as hard as he could, he was left dazed and confused when Brian suddenly grunted in near frustration as his once burgeoning phallus began to flop and flail with lessening turgidity before finally releasing his now, nearly limp semi, grunting his disapproval and jumping into the shower.

Matt lay there, in the dark, trying his best not to believe what had just happened, certain it had to have been some fluke coincidence, while simultaneously knowing it wasn't.

Either way, Matt had little chance to debate the matter as his Dad hollered up that dinner was nearly ready and Matt had scuttled as fast as he could out of his room before his brother pieced together that he had just watched him jacking off in the bathroom mere minutes ago.

Later, as they sat at the table in the kitchen finishing up the dinner their Mom had prepared, Matt had concluded, that if Brian had suspected he had observed him pounding his pud, he was certainly doing a good job pretending to the contrary, noting to himself, that he was certain his brother lacked that kind of subtlety, being more the bull in the proverbial china shop type.

Mentally allowing himself a sigh of relief, Matt had nearly finished his meal relatively unnoticed, when his Dad suddenly asked: "So, how's that new after-school project going Matty?"

He hated it when his Dad called him that, hell he hated when anyone did, but when either his Mom or Dad did, it almost automatically made him feel like they still viewed him as some little boy instead of the eighteen-year-old, Five feet eleven-inch high school senior he actually was.

"It's going okay and the extra cred should look good on my college application forms, " Matt stated, trying to sound optimistic about his future plans, though he still really wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do yet.

"Well, I for one feel much better about you doing this than working part-time over at that pharmaceutical lab on weekends, god knows what you could be exposing yourself to working over there." His mother piped in, reinforcing her displeasure at his choice of part-time employment.

His Dad reached over and gripped his shoulder: "Well whatever that new coach has you doing, keep it up, 'cause it sure hasn't hurt your body any son." his Dad noted, as his grip loosened and he began casually massaging his shoulder muscles, which was far more physical attention than his Dad had shown him in quite some time.

"I'm still getting paid by the lab though, Dr. Ventrov is just counting my after-school project as lab time since it sponsored and overseen by them and the doctor, and Coach Myers has been pretty hands-on the entire time as well," Matt assured them, hoping to dispel any of his mother's concerns.

His Dad's hand came up to brush the back of his fingers over Matt's right cheek lightly, before winking at Matt suggestively: "Let's hope not too hands-on, especially with my boy."

Matt had to nearly physically prevent his jaw from dropping as he stared wide-eyed at his Dad, blushing furiously nearly head to toe while trying to decide if it was his Dad's caressing fingers on the side of his face or the overtly sexual undertones of his observation that troubled him the most at that moment.

Just as he thought he must still be lying on his bed having some weird dream, he watched as his brother Brian stood up, the near-perfect outline of his half-hard cock bulging obscenely, tenting the sheer nylon fabric of his workout shorts and moving to his side, his crotch mere inches away from his face as his hand came up to ruffle Matt's hair declaring boldly: "Don't worry Pops, I'll keep a good eye on my little bro, I won't let nuthin' bad happen to him!"

Brian concluded his statement by running his hand down the back of Matt's head and began gently massaging the back of his neck as his swelling bulge continued to grow until he was certain he could feel the heat radiating off of it against his cheek.

Matt's gaze swiftly shifted toward his mother as she moaned across the table and began fanning herself profusely with her hands and looking more than a bit glassy-eyed before positing: "Is it suddenly getting really warm in here 'cause I feel like I'm soooo ... hot....right now!"

Matt was nearly floored when she turned to bat her eyes at his Dad demurely, before raising herself up slowly, twisting her body and suggestively running her hands down over her breast to her hips.

It suddenly dawned on Matt what was happening, causing him to shove away from the table and mumbling something about forgetting he was supposed to meet Talia somewhere and made for the kitchen door and a quick escape into the cool, early evening air.

"Lessen one.." Matt huffed to himself as he panted for breath, his heart still racing wildly over what had just happened: "Don't flood the house with sex pheromones, when you don't know what you're doing!"

Matt walked around his neighborhood block several times, at least as long as it took for it to get dark enough for the street lights to start coming on, before making his way back home.

He quietly as possible entered through the kitchen door, noting the dirty dishes still on the table though there was no sign of anyone around.

Trepidatiously, he made his way to the foot of the stairs and peered into the living room, where he knew his parents usually congregated after dinner, but saw that it was oddly empty, and deciding to just go ahead and make a quick, but quiet as possible dash to his bedroom, where he swiftly shut his door, while not turning on the lights in fear of alerting any of them to his presence.

After successfully putting his phone on charge Matt sat on his bed while taking in the eerie silence that permeated his room.

Slowly, as his ears adjusted to the preternatural quiet, Matt began to be able to make out the distant moans, groans, and squeaky bed noises emanating from his parent's room and though it wasn't completely beyond the scope of reason that his parents still engaged in such intimacies, he did find the timing more than a little suspect considering what had just happened earlier.

He also found himself wondering if his brother Brian was still feeling the effects of what he was now sure he had caused earlier and found himself sneaking toward the bathroom they shared. As quiet as a church mouse, he moved toward his brother's partially opened bathroom door to peer into his darkened room and finding his brother lying prone on his bed, butt ass naked, the lower half of his body awash in the rising moonlight beaming through his open bedroom window.

He could not only hear his brother's heavy breathing but see its cause, as Brian was furiously pounding his nine-inch, uncut cock with one hand while pulling and squeezing his egg-sized, bloated balls with the other.

Matt didn't know exactly how long his brother had been pounding his pud, but judging by the glistening pre-cum dripping down over his fingers into his matted, wet pubes, it had to have been for some time, maybe as long as he had been out circling the block.

He found himself wondering why it had taken Brian so long to cum, while simultaneously hearing his parent's lovemaking reach a fevered crescendo and linger there interminably when it finally dawned on him. His final attempt at controlling Brian's libido had been to stifle his release but not to quell his desire or need for sex.

Matt found himself aghast at the notion that Brian and his parents were now stuck in a continuous loop of mounting passion and desire but refused the ability to achieve release as per his final pheromonal command.

Matt knew what he needed to do at that moment and concentrated as hard as he could, picturing the bliss of orgasm and the satiation it would bring.

It took a minute or two, enough to make Matt fear it wouldn't take hold at all. But, as the moments passed, he heard the cessation of his parents squeaking bed and their satisfying groans just as Brian reached his own climax.

Matt watched his brother's muscular, sweating body tense almost from head to toe as his fist pumped a final time before gripping the base firmly between his thumb and forefinger as long thick ropes of pearly cum began to jet from the tip of his pulsating cockhead to splatter and cover his upper torso in stringy strands of viscous sperm and semen.

He could actually see the contractions of his big balls as they continuously jettisoned their contents out the end of his throbbing, jerking dick until Brian's entire upper torso was nearly covered in a patina of gooey, potent ball juice.

Fearing discovery, as the last few spurts of cum dribbled out into his already slick pubes, Matt hurried back to his own room, shutting his bathroom door before quickly stripping and jumping into bed and under the covers.

While Matt silently prayed that his last push had finally ended the raw passions he had unwittingly released on his unsuspecting family, a wave of relief washed over him as he heard his brother stirring in the bathroom as he once again started up the shower and began noisily bathing himself.

As his trepidation faded and the fear-induced adrenaline that had coursed through him most of the evening finally dissipated, Matt slipped away into his slumbering thoughts, where he dreamed of things yet to come.

                                                              <<<<<>>>>>

Thursday morning brought a whole new set of problems for Matt. First, he woke up with a persistent nagging headache and one of those insatiable hunger cravings that nothing seemed to satisfy.

He treated the first by downing some Tylenol and a couple of glasses of OJ with his breakfast and the second with frequent, in-between visits to the school vending machines, trying everything from mixed nuts to granola bars and powdered donuts and while the combined variety seemed to lessen his headache somewhat, his cravings persisted, up to, and including after lunch.

Talia had been no help either, being still peeved he had shut her down the night before: "It's my job, as your best friend, to kick your complacent ass into gear." she began, after plopping herself down right in front of him, at their usual lunch spot, right after their fourth-period class.

"I absolutely refuse to let you pass by this great opportunity with Blake, just because you're such a negative Nelly."

Matt scarcely listened to her but tried to feign interest, despite still being preoccupied with the events of the previous evening still fresh on his mind.

"Listen, Talia, I don't want to argue with you about this..." Matt began, trying to reason with her only to be cut off mid-sentence: "Then don't!" she blurted, continuing: "Just promise me one thing, don't shut Blake out, I seriously believe he just gets so nervous around you, he can't think what to do, let alone what to say...." She paused, reaching over to grip his hand before continuing: "Just give him some time to work up to it okay, that's all I'm asking you to do dude."

Matt just sighed, shaking his head: "If I agree not to ghost him anymore, will you let this drop and just let it go in whatever direction it goes?"

Talia thought for a moment, a slight grimace on her face as she shrugged her shoulders: "I'll stop pestering you if you promise to cool your heels, quit being so pessimistic, and agree to go out with him again if he asks."

Matt considered it for a moment, realizing that the only way he was ever going to get her off his back was by agreeing to something he was certain was never going to happen anyway, to be an acceptable arrangement: "Your such a pesky cunt ya know that?" Matt chortled, giving her a nasty look.

"I'll take that as a compliment asshole, only because it's oh so true!" she giggled, tossing one of the baby carrots she had been munching on and smacking him right on the forehead with it.

They finished out their lunch in relative peace, hitting all the usual gossip topics before parting for their next classes.

Matt kept true to his word when he entered his fifth-period social studies class and took his normal seat right in front of Blake Wiley, though he didn't try to make eye contact with him or engage him in social pleasantries.

The class pretty much went along at its usual boring pace, right up till the bell sounded ending their fifth-period class.

As Matt gathered up his notes and shoved them into his social studies book and rose to make his way out of the classroom, he felt an unexpected tap on his shoulder, only to turn his head to make brief eye contact with none other than Blake Wiley, who stood there nervously regarding him, before shoving a folded piece of paper into his hand, nodding sheepishly and mumbling: "Gotta go." before hurriedly scurrying off to into the hallway and disappearing into the crowd of passerby's.

Matt clutched the paper in his hand until he reached his locker and switched out his books for his next class, before unfolding it to peruse it's content.

"Matt, sorry if I've been really screwing things up, but I've never done anything like this before. I'm still trying to get my head squared away and hope you can be patient with me... if that's kewl with you, just shoot me a text..." followed by his number.

Matt regarded his short note for a moment, before realizing he was smiling and whipped out his phone, punched in Blake's number, and typed out a quick message: "Lunch with me and Talia in the quad tomorrow, no expectations."

Matt just made it to the door of his sixth-period class when his phone dinged with his reply: "I'm down with that" followed by a winky face emoji.

Grinning from ear to ear, Matt shoved his phone back into his pocket while pondering whether one of Talia's harebrained schemes might actually pay off after all.
After his sixth-period class, Matt found himself growing more anxious as he approached the gym for his extracurricular duties.

Having debated with himself throughout the day about whether he should mention the incidents from the evening before, Matt ultimately ruled against that notion, pushing it from his mind, not really wanting to drag his family into it any more than he already had.

He was however looking forward, with minor trepidation's, at what he might achieve once he was alone with Hunter Milsbane behind a closed door.

Of the four guys, Hunter probably had the least amount of brainpower and was more of a follower amongst the group than any of the others, usually differing to Hatcher or Ramsey for guidance and leadership.

The coach had told him they would be alone in the new meditation room and Matt wondered if that also meant they wouldn't be monitored while in there and would rely on his personal written and oral observations as was the case with his Friday evaluations.

He found himself actually being rather pleased to hear, that to ensure their privacy, as well as keep them from the curiosity of the others, Matt would be expected to keep the door locked until their session was over and that Matt would be the one who determined the length of each private session, just so long as it didn't extend beyond an hour, which was when the coach had to have the weight room available for the rest of the team after football practice.

The best news of all was that the coach himself, during that time, would be out on the field running drills with the three others and the rest of the football team, at least until four o'clock. Matt had decided that at first, he would try some of the suggested and recommended control options, instead of the one he had practiced on his brother. Though he didn't completely rule that option out, it actually depended solely on how well he was at garnering any significant results from the listed options.

As they entered the room for the first time, Matt was actually rather impressed. He didn't know exactly what to expect but he hadn't really pictured an old equipment storage room looking the way this did now.

The ten by fourteen-foot room was sparsely furnished, with only a couple of padded dark blue mats in the middle of the floor, butted end to end. The room itself had been freshly painted a light grayish color which coordinated with the mid-tone gray slate tile of the floor.

The former fluorescent lights had been replaced with incandescent fixtures that allowed Matt to adjust the intensity of the lighting throughout the room.

For today's session, Matt had set the lighting down rather dimly before taking a seat in the center of one of the mats, in a cross-legged position facing inward and indicating to Hunter to do the same on the other mat, facing him.

Matt didn't actually know how much Hunter was made aware of what they would be attempting, if he was told anything at all, except to do as he was instructed. But Matt was also fairly certain none of them were cognizant of what the desired outcome that was hoped for, knowing full well that none of the four would have agreed to Matt controlling or influencing them in any kind of fashion, especially to the extent Doctor Ventrov and Coach Myers were expecting.

From the start, Hunter seemed put off, perhaps even a little annoyed by having to be there, and had no problem making his feelings known by repeatedly sighing and bulking disdainfully at every instruction Matt gave him.

He didn't dare question it though. The coach had made himself quite clear to all of them, that this was part of the program and anyone who didn't follow directions could kiss their spots on the football team goodbye.

Basically, Hunter was doing as he was told, he just didn't like it and probably would have preferred being anywhere else but there.

Matt had asked the coach if he could bring his cell phone with him and perhaps play some music to help relax and soothe as well as help them to focus on their meditations.

The doc had left no orders to the contrary so the coach didn't see why he couldn't and had readily agreed, at least for the time being to his request.

Matt had downloaded several instrumental pieces that were intended for meditation and Matt started up his playlist as he softly instructed Hunter on some deep breathing exercises.

He had told Hunter that was to help him cleanse and focus his thoughts, but in reality, it was to facilitate his intake of Matt's pheromone emissions.

Though they were both fairly equal in height, Matt sat there admiring Hunter's physique. He had told Hunter to close his eyes and keep them closed and focus on the music and his deep slow breaths and was taking the opportunity that afforded him, by admiring Hunter's hirsute body.

Hunter wasn't what Matt would call handsome; his ears stuck out from the side of his head a little more than was normal, both his lips and mouth were wider and fuller than average as well, he did have a rather attractive, upturned button type nose, though his nostrils spread out rather broadly.

His heavy brows and rather narrow eye set seemed to accentuate his pre-shortened forehead and lower hairline and his dark thick, nearly buzzcut hair and facial scruff stood out against his creamy pale skin.

Matt, having seen Hunter completely stripped down before in the locker room, knew that underneath his maroon football jersey and his loose-fitting satiny gold midthigh shorts, lurked a very muscular, hefty build that was completely matted in thick dark body hair, the kind one would just love running their fingers through.

Doing his best to suppress his growing arousal, Matt tried focusing on one of the prescribed alternatives in his syllabus.

He had crossed fear off his list fairly quickly and definitely didn't want to induce anger in Hunter, knowing that he would probably be the main recipient of any deleterious side effects incurred with that one.

Matt also had little interest in making Hunter sad or anxious and as his list of options began to dwindle Matt finally settled on one that was right up the alley of Doctor Ventrov's expectations...submission, or in this case submissiveness.

Picturing that in his head as he tried to focus and project his will outward, proved rather daunting, noting that there were several different ways one could submit, such as spiritually, physically, emotionally, but the one Matt chose was mental.

To that end, Matt attenuated his visualizations to acts of incontestable obedience and reinforced it with positive images of devotion and a sense of duty and trust.

Matt did this slowly, building it from the foundation up, like rows and layers of brick and mortar until his head practically swam vertiginously with the effort, before he finally pulled his consciousness back, opened his eyes, and studied Hunter for any sign of the efficacy of his handiwork.

Realizing quickly that just staring at Hunter wouldn't determine anything, Matt decided to test him by making minor suggestions, the first being...: "Hunter, why don't you get up and start running in place for me." Matt cooed suggestively, watching as Hunter's eyes slowly opened and refocused on him, a broad grin spreading across his face as he rose to his feet, announcing: "Sure thing Matt." as he diligently began running in place.

"Get this knees up higher Hunter, you don't want to half-ass it now do ya?" Matt taunted him playfully.

"Absolutely not Matt, you can count on me to give a hundred percent, every time!"

The sincerity in his voice left little doubt in Matt's mind that Hunter was being completely forthright, evidenced by his knees pumping higher into the air and looking to Matt for confirmation on whether he was doing it the way Matt thought he should.

Matt decided to test the limit of his control by issuing an instruction that served no practical purpose to his assigned task other than for Matt's own personal enjoyment: "Hunter, don't you think it would be better all-around if you stripped down completely while you do that, I think so anyway."

Matt had presented the command purposely open to interpretation by Hunter but codified it by suggesting that Matt thought it would be better, not that Hunter had to do it.

Hunter didn't pause, even for a second, he immediately started stripping off his clothes, tossing them willy-nilly until he was completely naked and resumed running in place as previously instructed before looking to Matt, questioning: "Is this better Matt, am I do'in it the way I should?"

Matt smiled to himself, enjoying every minute of this: "Yes Hunter that's better..." Matt paused for a second when a wicked idea occurred to him: "You know what would make it even better Hunter?" He asked nonchalantly.

Again, Hunter didn't even hesitate, asking enthusiastically: "I'd really like to know how Matt!"

Trying to keep his face free from expressing the jovial elation that permeated within his thoughts, Matt responded as deadpan as possible: "It would be totally better if you did it with a rock hard boner while you're tweaking your nipples and singing row row row your boat."

Without hesitation, Hunter's limp cock began to bloat and swell until attained its full eight-inch capacity in seconds as Hunter began singing and tweaking his nipples vigorously.

With a big smile on his face, he paused his singing only long enough to almost jubilantly declare: "You're right Matt, this is a whole lot better."

Matt smiled back at him, nodding his head in affirmation as he leaned back and enjoyed the view for a few minutes, before scooping up his phone and checking their time.

Noting that they still had about forty minutes to kill, Matt decided to indulge himself, even more, seeing no reason why he shouldn't take full advantage of the situation, while simultaneously pushing and testing Hunter's limits.

"You should stop now Hunter and lay on the mat with your legs spread wide and rest a few minutes." Matt again suggesting without ordering.

Without commentary, Hunter did exactly as Matt suggested, folding his hands behind his head and spreading his legs, fully exposing himself to Matt, asking quizzically: "Is this good Matt or should I spread 'em wider?"

Matt crawled over to him, getting between his spread legs, looking up his hairy, muscular torso as Hunter craned his neck to maintain eye contact, a look of anticipation in his eyes.

Matt gave him a faint smile, cooing suggestively: "You know, on further consideration, maybe it would be better if you pulled your knees up to your chest and reached down and spread your butt cheeks apart so your butthole can air out a little."

Obediently, Hunter did exactly as suggested, still arching his neck toward Matt, seeking eye contact and Matt's approval.

Matt hadn't planned on doing anything like this. In all honesty, he hadn't expected these kinds of results so quickly, but now that he had Hunter all primed and ready and they had time to kill, Matt thought, why waste it and the opportunity spread out so beautifully in front of him.

Matt looked Hunter right in the eyes and this time left no doubt what he wanted from him: "Hunter, what you really need right now is to have me finger your hairy butthole and suck your fat juicy cock."

Hunter Milsbane stared back at him for a moment, his rich brown eyes staring wantonly back at him.

Matt watched attentively as Hunter's right hand slid over his muscular buttcheek and clasped the base of his thick veiny cock and pointed it toward Matt's pouting lips before practically commanding: "You need to suck my dick Matt and don't forget to finger my bunghole!"

"Whatever you say, Hunter." Matt mused, bringing his wet lips to the tip of Hunter's eight-inch, helmet-headed schlong and tried engulfing the broad glans into his oral cavity, stretching his mouth to the fullest just to manage its bloated girth.

Matt noted, that while Hunter's dick wasn't as long as Hatcher's, it was a good bit thicker and more vascular, straining Matt's lips and jaws just to accommodate its circumference.

The glans alone almost filled his oral cavity and his lips had no longer stretched and crested the broad coronal ridge than Hunter thrust his hips up forcing it to the back of his throat.

Its girth prevented him from proceeding further, but Matt compensated by undulating his tongue against his exposed frenulum as one hand massaged his hairy rotund ball sack and his other rubbed his pucker suggestively, occasionally trying to push the tip of his middle finger into the virginal hole.

Matt had no desire to hurt Hunter, so he settled for the deep massage of his brown eye, lacking proper lubrication to pop that tight pucker open, deciding he would have ample opportunities to be better prepared.

Right now, more than anything else, Matt wanted Hunter's hot load. He wanted to taste it and savor it, unlike Hatcher, who had unleashed his entire load down his throat, past his taste buds.

Hunter's meaty, thick-fingered hands clasped Matt's head between them and began slowly pumping into Matt's mouth, until he was practically pounding his beefy knob against the back of his neck, raking it across his abused uvula and blocking his sinus airway.

Matt could feel Hunter's big gonads pull up tightly, growing denser as they started contracting and Matt increased his suctioning, knowing that Hunter was mere seconds from flooding his mouth with his creamy load.

Hunter's moans and grunts reached a crescendo resulting in a primal growl from deep with his chest, his fingers gripping Matt's head vicelike as his massive load traversed the finger-width tube of his corpus spongiosum to spew the hot dregs of his testicular juices into Matt's cum hungry mouth.

Hunter's thick, virile splooge inundated Matt's oral cavity, filling it to capacity as Matt greedily drank and choked on the copious fluids rocketing from his convulsing urethra until Hunter's tidal orgasm subsided and he finally relaxed his grip on Matt's head and collapsed in near exhaustion as Matt continued to savor the last belching drops of his thinning load.

With a loud lip-smacking pop, Matt finally withdrew the still bloated but softening pecker from his mouth, lapping the glans orifice with the tip of his tongue and finally licking the last sticky, pungent drops from his lips.

"Damn Hunter, that was mighty tasty." Matt groaned, grinning lasciviously up his torso, making eye contact.

Matt focused his mind again reinforcing and establishing his control over the stalwart youth: "From now on Hunter, I think you should save all your ball juice for me and make sure you check with me every day to see if want some."

Hunter stared at him glassy-eyed for a second: "Sure thing Matt, I can do that, no problem."

As Matt got up and helped Hunter gather his clothes and suggesting he get dressed, he gave Hunter one final bit of instruction: "I think it's probably best if you never discuss this with anyone else Hunter, this should be just between you and I understand?"

Matt smiled as Hunter pulled on his shorts and stuffed his half-hard dick away, looking up at him with his big brown puppy dog eyes and saying in all earnestness: "Of course, whatever you say, Matt, you can count on me."

Matt patted him on the head, ruffling his hair, all the while thinking: "One down, three to go!"