This story is complete fiction. Only read this story if you're not offended by sexual situations between adults and minors.
Any resemblance by name or description to anyone dead or alive is totally coincidental. If you are not of legal age or if this content is not legal in your area, please do not read this. Please don't post or publish this story without asking my permission. If you have comments, please email me at scotttimscott09@aol.com.
Author's note: In the previous chapter Matt was mistakenly referred to as the "Quarterback", when he in fact is the team's "Center"; Eric holds the title of "Quarterback". Sorry for the mix-up.
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- "A QUARTERBACK`S TALE" Part 4
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It's Eric again. If you read Chapter 3, you know about the awesome locker room dream I had. I figure with everything that I've been through the past couple of days (the dreams, the fantasies), it's now time that I formulate my plan regarding my teammie Scott. So I guess it's official: I'm horny for one of my buds. Wish me luck.
I was late for practice. The Coach had told us to meet at noon, but I woke up late.
I jumped out of bed and pulled on my boxer-briefs, nylon shorts and top. I ran downstairs and slammed back a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice.
Grabbing my smart phone and gear I sprinted out to the car. Pulling out of the driveway all I could think of is that the Coach was gonna be really pissed at me.
I called Scott's cell and told him that I was on my way. "Tell the Coach that I had a emergency dental appointment this morning and that it ran over because of a stupid cavity."
"Dude, chill. He called a little while ago to explain that he'd be in later than he planned. Something about the filter or plumbing with his precious new swimming pool."
"Cool. And Scott, if you're not too busy after practice, I need to talk to you about something. It's really kinda' personal, but I have to talk to someone. Uh, not really `someone' (I hoped he could see my air-quotes around the word "someone"), I need to talk to you in particular."
"Hey, Eric, thats why were buds. You`ve been there for me many times through my shit. Glad the tables are turned and I can return the favor."
"See you soon dude." I tossed the phone on the seat beside me and breathed a sigh of relief.
I finally got to the Athletic Center at the school and trotted across the parking field to front entrance.
Making my way to the locker rooms I noticed that swim team was practicing in the pool area.
"Why are they here today?" I thought to myself. And then I realized that they were competing in an upcoming meet across town. Ah, the school of Champions--hopefully.
I'd already planned to talk to Scott about the conflicting emotions that I was having regarding my sexuality, but if the "Fish Heads," as they're sometimes mockingly called, were sharing the our locker room today it was gonna be kinda' tough to have his undivided attention.
So it was with a big relief when I saw the "Fish Heads'" going in and out of the Visitors' locker room. I guess due to the fact that we needed the space unexpectedly (because of the upcoming Finals) the coaches had made different accommodations. Besides the swim team would be outta' there before we came back in from the field anyway. Then, at least, I could converse in private, if I so chose. Who knows, maybe I would change my mind once again.
Finally getting to the Home locker room I strolled over to my bench and threw my bag down on the floor.
Scott looked over at me and nodded. I returned one of my own. After acknowledging a group of guys with the obligatory high-fives I quickly donned my gear, having just finished up when the Coach entered the room.
"Sorry men. Little problem at home. Don't ever get an inground pool," he huffed, "It's more trouble than it's worth."
"No problem Coach" we blurted out.
"Now get your butts out there."
We all then ran onto the field and buckled down to go over the myriad plays that we expected to use at the Finals. As usual, both the offense and defense were totally in sync. Paul, Matt and Frankie worked their butts off and Scott was terrific in his running patterns and yardage gains.
Every time we met in the huddles my bud Scott seemed to be blushing--or maybe he was just proud of the fact that I kept pointing out how much he'd improved this season. Who knows.
Our two-hour practice was almost finished and we were all pretty much exhausted. Maybe it was due to the unseasonably-warm fall weather `cause we were sweatin' like nobody's business. I always got myself worked-up when I saw the uni's clinging to guys' hot bodies along with their mops of hair drenched in jock sweat. A major turn-on to my prying eyes.
Coach Dave finally called an end to the practice: "Okay guys, hit the showers. And make it quick."
With that we all trotted back to the Center, passing the "Fish Heads" who were just leaving.
I remember thinking that they seemed to be polar opposites of us football studs. We were big and beefy and they were smaller and thinner. Don`t get me wrong, swimming needs toned bodies, and these guys were toned. I guess we chose what we were best-suited for when it came to sports.
Upon entering the locker room the Coach went directly to his office and picked up his land line.
Since I had been up front by his office getting some fresh towels, I couldn't help but hear him mumbling and thanking the pool contractors for quickly solving the dilemma.
With that he came out and said two words: "Pool Party!"
We all stopped what we were doing and looked at him quizzically.
"You know what I said earlier about a pool being more trouble than it's worth?"
We all shook our heads in the affirmative
"Well I just changed my mind. Pools are great. It really turned out to be a stupid adjustment I had made. And the best part is that even though it was my fault the contractors said that because I had gotten them a contract for pool maintenance here at the school, that they would eat the charges--this time. So anyway `Pool Party', my place, say about 2 o'clock tomorrow."
"Way cool Coach, we`ll be there. Thanks man."
All the guys were psyched. Along with the diving, cannon-balling and sure-to-be belly flops we all thought that it would be a good way to exercise also. Maybe help to limber us up before we left for the Finals.
Of course all I could think about was how would I control my raging hormones when all the guys would undoubtedly be nearly naked for most of the afternoon at the Coach`s house.
"Hit the lights when you leave guys." Coach then quickly left. I guess to double-check the contractors` work--just to make sure it was good-to-go.
Most of the players were already in the midst of taking off their uni's; some already heading for the showers. Man this team was hot. Totally naked and displaying their junk. "Why do they call it junk''"? is asked myself. "Far from junk' if you ask me."
All that eye-candy. All that muscle. I was getting' boned--again.
How I longed to kneel in the middle of the floor and blatantly lunch on their manhood. (Well it was a little late for lunch per se. Maybe a snack.) Yea, scoot from one guy to the next and have them feed me their thick salty loads. Hey, I'm a growing boy. I need my protein.
Undoubtedly a few of the guys would be disgusted, but it wouldn't be below them shoot a few ropes into a willing jock's mouth, now would it.? I mean after the practice we just had who wouldn't want to unwind with a good BJ? I sat there on the bench contemplating what I could say: "Who wants some fuckin' head?" or "Anyone want head?" or "I need dick guys. The line forms to the left!"
Once again, I snapped out of my fantasy world. With all my daydreaming I wanted just one guy, and one guy alone.
The guys started to come back out of the showers already toweling-off. Paul and Matt seemed to standing unusually close today, while Frankie and Brandon were talking in lowered tones.
Scott came to his locker dripping wet. He reached for another towel and began drying his mass of curly locks.
The towel began traveling down his hot frame. Here was the man of my lust, my nightly wanks and my wet dreams standing next to be carefully drying between his parted thighs. His toned biceps rippling as he wrapped the towel behind him to dry his back.
"What a fuckin body that stud has." I thought to myself. "Look at that junk just waitin' to be devoured. Those abs probably yearning to be rubbed? I wonder if he like his nips sucked? If so, where do I sign?"
I had already decided that my "first time" would be with him. It just had to be. We grew up together. Well we actually met in 8th Grade, and he was pretty cute then. Damn. 5 years already.
Matt tapped me on the shoulder snapping me to attention. "Dude, us guys are goin' out for some pizza and wings. You in?"
"Nah man. I gotta get home and finish my paper for Psyche. It's due on Monday and it still needs a lot of work. Sorry."
Matt just shrugged and said "Whatever".
He grabbed his gear as he and Paul walked out of the room. "Aren't they a cute couple" I thought.
The rest of the crowd was thinning out by then. I guess some of them were goin' home to eat. Some of them prob'ly had dates--with girls (ugh)--since it was the weekend.
I actually think a couple of them are bi. Hell, maybe some of them were getting' some on the DL with each other. I couldn't think about that though, I was in my own sexual quandary.
The last of the guys left, saying "See ya' at the Coach's tomorrow guys."
Now it was Scott and me--alone. My blood pressure was suddenly rising and my heart was beating against my chest.
Scott, now clad only in his briefs, sat his hot, beefy ass next to me on the bench and said "So what's up dude? You wanna' talk about the some feelings you've been having?"
I took a deep breath, and put my hands on my knees to steady my nerves.
"Well, it's like this. I've been having some unsettling dreams lately. And I've been having some fucked-up fantasies. At least I think the're fucked-up."
"Dude, we all have fantasies. You have yours. I have mine. I guess it's the brains way of letting us have fun and yet keep us out of trouble--assuming they're good fantasies."
"Oh they're good ones okay. But my problem is that I want to live-out one of these fantasies in particular. I want it to become real," my face reddening somewhat as I said it.
Scott cleared his throat: "And...?
"You must know by now that I caught you pervin' over me in the showers after the game last night. Right? And I know that you ripped-off my cup. Right?
Scott nodded at my statements.
"Well, to tell you the truth I'm really flattered. But that's what worries me. I think you know everything there is to know about me except one thing."
"What's that?" he asks
"Here goes: It has to do with my sexuality. I may be gay. I may be bi. Outwardly I'm in', but inwardly I'm out'. Does that make any sense?"
"I think so. So what do you plan to do about it?"
"I don't know Scott. I'm so overwhelmed right now. I hope I haven't let you down by laying all this on you man."
Scott carefully slides over to me and grabs my shaking hands. "You've never let me down Eric. Without sounding to philosophical and shit, the respect and care you've shown to me has always been my guidepost of how things should be between two friends. Dude, when I see the self-centeredness and egotism from some of the jerks around here I feel closer to you then ever. Nothing you can say will ever change that. Okay?"
"So you're not disappointed?"
"Dude, look into my eyes. Do you see any disappointment?" He gently put his hand under my chin, lifting it up as his face came closer to mine. He kisses me tenderly on the lips."
His first kiss.
My first kiss.
Our first kiss.
It was fuckin' electric! E-fuckin'-lectric!
My fantasies may have been over-the-top, but this was absolutely the biggest, most mind-numbing, most head-spinning, most pulse-pounding, most chest-beating, most thrilling thing that I've experienced in my life.
My arms reached up around his broad shoulders--hold onto him forcefully--I never wanted to let him go.
I thought to myself: "I'm so fuckin' glad I waited. I'm so glad he was gonna' be my first. I am now prepared to give my all to my bud, my soul mate, my Scott."
"C'mere Eric. Stand up."
I readily stood up in front of him--finally surrendering to him. Both mentally and physically
He's looking into my eyes, seemingly staring deep into my soul. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? Yesterday's not the first time I've perved over you. I've been pervin' since Freshman year. You've given' me more woodys than I can remember. And I can't add up all the countless loads that I've shot all over myself, my sheets--and lately, that cup--wishing that you were lying beside me.
"Buddy," he continues, "I've had it bad for you a long, long time. Every time you walked towards me or away from me, my heart skips a beat. Ditto that with every time you laughed at one of my corny jokes; every time you comforted a friend; every time you comforted me. That's what makes you sexy in my eyes. Having you has always been my fantasy."
I stood there dumbfounded but totally mesmerized.
I reached up to his shoulders and my hands began their journey; across his muscled delts, down to his lats and finally resting just above the elastic waist of his briefs. I snuggled my nose into the nape of his neck and breathed in his freshly showered body. Definitely "Scott's Scent."
He held me steadfast with his hands placed on my biceps; he began to massage them ever so slightly.
I tentatively lowered my fingers into the band of his underwear and casually drew my fingers all the way around to the V-shaped front. He tensed awkwardly then relaxed.
As his hands roamed across my pecs my whole body went into spasms and my pelvis suddenly thrust outward.
I was hard. Rock-fuckin'-hard!
"Oh, Scott. Oh, my God. What are you doin' man. You're driving me fuckin' crazy."
He put his finger up to my lips as if to quiet me.
"Man we're just getting' started. Take some deep breaths dude. Relax."
I did as he instructed; breathing in and out, in and out. It calmed me down--momentarily.
His beefy, firm hands then began to knead my ass; easily at first but then grabbing them with a purpose.
His hands felt wonderful. Wonder-fuckin'-ful.
I thought that I was going to faint. I broke away and sat down on the bench to get my bearings.
I found that it only made matters worse because I was eye-level with his bulging cotton-covered crotch. His dick was straining against the confines of his briefs. Actually it was protruding above the band. The helmeted tip begging to be unleashed; begging to come out and play.
I twisted my body around to face him. His smell was intoxicating. Raising my head and looking into his eyes my heart did a somersault at this perfect specimen of maleness.
The time had come (no pun intended),
I slipped off the bench and knelt before him. My soul mate. My friend. And now...
Fumbling with his underwear to get them down over his chiseled hips I let them glide inch by inch over his muscled thighs all the way down past his bulging calves. They finally hit the floor and he deftly stepped out of them planting his feet ever-so-firmly on the ground.
I instinctively parted my lips and licked at his glistening cock. The musky scent of his shaft and balls reached my nose. I took a long whiff of that intoxicating smell.
"Oh man, suck that Receiver cock. And suck it good." His dick began to throb relentlessly as my tongue twirled around his pulsating sword. I lifted his heavy cum-laden balls in my hand. So smooth and sexy. So Scott.
He gestured for me to rise from the floor, which I did.
His face them lowered to my chest: "This is one of the things that I've fantasized about more than once stud. Yep, always dreamed about munchin` on those hot QB tits" he said. And with that his tongue shot out and smoothly lapped at my nipples. He went from one to the other with the same precision he uses on the field. Then suddenly and ever so gently I feel his teeth grazing against the nibs. My whole body convulsed. My legs nearly gave out.
His hand washed across my abs massaging my 8-pack.
His fingertips glazed my belly button.
It felt incredible.
He then began lowering his body into a crouching position. He mirrored with his tongue what he had done with his hands. He licked my 8-pack side-to-side and stuck his tongue into the recess of by belly button.
He then fell to the floor and grabbed onto both sides of my boxer-briefs and lowered them all the way down my legs.
My cock, harder than ever, thwacked against my stomach once it was released.
"Get ready my man" Scott said looking up into my eyes once again.
"Go easy dude" I said. "Be gentle. OK?"
He nodded his head and then lowered it.
I felt his warm breath bathing the head of my cock. He wrapped his lips momentarily around the pillar of flesh. His hand reached for my `nads which he slowly rolled around in his hands--just like he fondled that pigskin that gave us our win to the Finals.
My legs once again buckled and the room started spinning. I knew that if he kept this up I would blow my load before it was time.
I definitely wanted to feast on his manhood. I wanted to make love to this guy and I never wanted it to end.
In unison we both moved out into the middle of the locker room and knelt down on the slick, cold concrete floor. As our faces neared each other our tongues involuntarily slipped towards each other`s lips. We opened our mouths letting our tongues find their own way in.
His mouth was awesome. He tasted awesome.
We held onto each other's waist as we deep-throated each other with our stabbing tongues; our arms intertwined around each other's necks.
Then, as though in perfect sync our bodies leaned and lowered themselves to the floor.
We looked deeply into each other's eyes savoring this moment. Wanting to remember our first time.
"Roll over on your stomach dude," Scott said.
I looked at him with question marks in my eyes.
"Roll over," he repeated.
I dutifully rolled over; my aching steel-like shaft rubbing against the floor.
He crawled around until his face was at my upturned ass.
With my heart pounding in my chest he grabbed my glutes and parted them. The cool air rushed in.
Suddenly I feel his tongue flicking against my asshole. I found myself spreading my legs further to accommodate his probing tongue.
Yeah dude, "Finally gonna get me a mighty taste of that hot Quarterback stud ass." he moaned.
As he continued to lick at my hole his fingers traveled up to my nuts, which I'm sure were lewdly displayed underneath me. His licking was driving me to the brink. In my dreams the sex was awesome, but this was just fuckin' unbelievable. My whole body was rolling side to side. My chest was heaving.
And then he stopped and crawled back up to my side.
We held each other tightly; our cocks pressed firmly into each others.
"Dude let me try."
"Try what?" he asked.
"What you just did to me."
He rolled over onto his stomach and his beautiful ass was presented in all its glory; high and proud.
I crawled down and then back up to his upturned globes.
Once I saw that awesome ass I turned into a fuckin' animal. What a hot fuckin' ass. So solid. So full. So eatable.
I slowly made my way up to those delicious mounds of flesh. Kneading them with my tongue and my hands. He then spread his legs like I had done just moments ago.
When he did that I went even crazier with lust. I rammed my tongue up his ass so fast and so furiously that he let out a muffled shriek.
He had me. Hook, line and sinker.
I ate that ass like it was my last meal.
His body writhed in ecstasy. With his arms still resting on the floor he eased his ass into the air as he rose to a makeshift kneeling position.
"Yeah dude, chow down on that game-winning-TD Receiver ass. Dig in stud."
I went nuts. I ate his ass like one plunges their entire face and nose into half of a nice, ripe watermelon. I ate, and ate and ate.
I raised my head and cried out, "Delicious. De-fuckin-licious!"
He lowered himself back onto the floor as I crawled up beside him. We continued to rub our bodies together. Sometimes intertwining out hands, sometimes our feet.
Both our cocks glistening with pre, we knew it was time.
We situated ourselves into that old-favorite, the 69 position.
Before you could count to one we were busily licking and slurping each other meat with abandon.
His cock was fantastic; so sweet and tender. His 7 inches filled my throat to the max as I lovingly lapped it with my tongue.
As I sucked on his meat his sweaty balls bounced against my chin, even though they were beginning their journey upward signaling an impending orgasm.
He slavishly licked at my shaft, stuffing it down his hungry throat. He one-upped me though. I couldn't believe that while his throat was engulfing with my rod he was actually able to flick his tongue out and lick my nuts at the same time. Go figure.
Breathing hot and heavy and knowing the end was near, our bodies stiffened in unison as we commenced to flood each others mouth with rope after steamy rope of our white-hot juices.
It seemed we both could not swallow these volleys of semen fast enough. Both our mouths were filled to the max and our seeds had no where else to go except to seep out of our overflowing mouths and onto each faces. We were both pretty much coated with our healthy doses of cum as we finally let each others tools slip out of our mouths.
We were so exhausted we could hardly move and just laid their listening to each other's breathing return to a sense of normalcy.
After a reasonable amount of time we finally got up and dressed. Gathering our gym bags we made our way over to the door.
I turned around to Scott and announced: "I don't think I want to have sex with you anymore."
I'll never forget the crestfallen look on his face as his eyes welled-up in disbelief.
Then I added: "No more sex, Okay? Next time I want to make love to you. Do you know why? Sex is an emotion of the body. Making love is an emotion of the heart. I love you Scott; always have and always will.
We both held each other tightly, fusing our lips together for one more passionate kiss. Then dousing the lights we left the room.
The entire Center was empty now, except for a lone "Fish Head" walking far behind us.
--Copyright 2011. Tim Scott.
Okay guys. I'd like to continue this story if I get some positive feedback. Continuing/expanding story lines and new characters can also be handled if you like. You can e-mail me at scotttimscott09@aol.com. Oh, and happy stroking--Copyright 2011. Tim Scott.