Hey guys, thanks so much for all the kind words and emails (and pics!). Please keep them coming. This is the last oral dumb horny jock story, and I have one big idea left for the finale.
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Here are some stories about my adventures as an 18yo dumb jock... well, more like misunderstandings and accidents.
Christmas was a disaster. We didn't even send out a family Christmas card this year! And the presents I got from Dad were so boring... I mean, who needs twenty pairs of boring tighty whities? I'm a man! But the last thing I wanted was to seem ungrateful. So I kept wearing the awesome pink bikini briefs he got me a few months back, and every day I'd rub a pair of those tighty whities under my armpits and toss it in the laundry basket. Dad was happy, and my bouncy ass could breathe in the tiny pink underwear I secretly wore under my jeans. Win/win situation.
On New Year's Eve, Dad sat me down for a `serious talk'. He told me he was concerned that I only ever spent time with my jock buddies, and urged me to make new friends. Dad admitted that he knew my Christmas present wasn't the greatest this year and to make up for it he had signed me up for the cross-country school trip! The idea was for me to meet students who weren't on sports teams, and spend less time with my Italian pal Eddy. I was a little reluctant to agree until Dad told me he had volunteered as a chaperone and would be coming along too! Leaving Eddy and the guys behind to spend quality time with my Dad didn't sound so bad. Hugging him, and despite his mild fear of flying, I knew it would be a trip we'd never forget.
Back in my room, I called Eddy immediately to tell him what happened. He was really concerned we wouldn't be hanging out for a few weeks, and listened quietly while I told him the flight details and exactly which day we were leaving. He made me repeat them and then hung up in a hurry to go talk to his Dad. Weird... but I started packing anyway. My first plane ride ever was only a week away – so cool! I briefly worried about privacy on the plane... you know, to deal with my twitching puck... so I filled my suitcase with easy-access jockstraps just in case.
The airport was crowded but the buzz was exciting. Boarding took longer than I expected – Dad and I got separated at the last checkpoint, and the full body scanner wasn't working properly. I had to yank my shorts down under my glutes for a pat-down with the Latino security officer. His rough paws dug into my jiggling butt – standard security protocol' - and I had to lean up against his pecs to keep my balance. He raised his eyebrows at my pink bikini briefs but I explained, whispering into his ear so no one else could hear, that they were the only thing that satisfied my itching asshole. As I tugged my shorts back up he smirked and handed me a card with his phone number on it for when I got back'. I grinned – you never hear about airport security staff being so friendly! I told him I'd definitely call, that my Dad was encouraging me to make new friends, and with a firm slap on my butt from him I was on my way to join up with Dad and catch that plane!
On board, well... imagine our surprise when on the way to our seats, Dad and I walked straight past Eddy and his Dad in the fifth row! Dad frowned and shook hands with Mr D'Angelo as Eddy waved with a huge grin on his face. Turns out his Dad had been considering a vacation, and Eddy convinced him to sign up for the school trip too! Mr D'Angelo was a powerhouse of Italian muscle. He ran a hardware store on the outskirts of town and was known as the `Italian Stallion' – I guess he used to raise horses? Today his dark beard was trimmed and tufts of dark hair sprouted out the top of his unbuttoned polo shirt. The same thick fur coated his legs from where his cargo shorts ended down to his sneakers. A sizeable bulge ran down the left leg of his shorts... but I quickly realised it must be his phone. Mr D'Angelo seemed just as surprised to see us, casting a sidelong glance at his son as he and my Dad made small talk. Eddy just shrugged and gave me a bro hug, whispering "how's your puck today bro? Have you stuck a finger or two in there yet, like I suggested?"
I felt it spasm, practically chewing on the thin pink strip of material. "It was fine until you mentioned it, bro... and no I haven't, you perv!" I blushed, but Dad had already grabbed my wrist and was dragging me towards our seats at the back of the plane. "Don't worry Dad," I told him, "I promise I'll make some new friends too! Like that Latino security officer!" Dad rubbed his forehead, asking what security officer, when, how? I told him we would talk about it later and encouraged him to take his seat and knock back a sleeping pill (his nervousness about flying was clearly getting to him). He initially refused, demanding that I stay in my seat the whole flight (except to use the bathroom) and only washed a pill down with scotch when I agreed. Great, I was stuck next to my sleeping father for the next few hours... and my pucker had started its all-too-familiar twitching. The bikini briefs barely made a difference today! Squirming my booty against the vinyl plane seat, I put on my headphones and settled in to watch a movie with the faint sound of Dad's snores right beside me.
About two hours after take-off, I slipped off my headphones and surveyed the cabin. Mostly nerds from school – I recognised some from the chess club who always hold bake sales (why do chess nerds need to raise money?) and the audio visual geeks who film our home games. Strangely, Eddy was deep in conversation with the AV geeks, making himself comfortable in one of the spare seats next to them and showing off some pictures on his phone. Every so often they would all snigger and glance over at me – each time I waved with a confused look on my face – but at least Eddy was trying to make new friends. Making sure Dad was asleep, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up, intending to join them and see what was so funny... but then I realised, with Eddy having switched seats, that left Mr D'Angelo all alone! Hiking up my underwear under my running shorts and adjusting the strap against my puck (still twitching), I walked towards the fifth row.
Mr D'Angelo grunted as I approached. "Eddy's over there," he pointed with his thumb. "I know, Mr D'Angelo... I came to talk to you for a while!" Grinning, I gestured to the empty seat next to him and he shuffled his knees in to let me squeeze through.
"At least call me Vinny..." the words kind of stuck in his throat as I shuffled through the small gap left between his knees and the seat in front, my teen ass pointed towards him. I hoped the pink waistband wasn't showing too much above the elastic of my shorts as my ass bounced in his face. Blushing, I quickly took a seat and grinned at him.
"OK Vinny... so... going on vacation, huh?" If Dad wanted me to make new friends, I'd start with Eddy's Dad. He eyed me almost suspiciously and took a sip of his complimentary beer. "Yeah, well... Eddy and I could use a break. He practically begged me to sign up for this crap. But we haven't had a proper vacation since his Mom left and I uh... well, let's just say I really need to let off some steam... you know... relax." He smirked conspiratorially and tapped his fingers against the thick phone-bulge in his shorts.
I vaguely remembered when my Mom packed her bags a left (I was very young) so I knew that Vinny and Eddy must have been doing it tough. Especially Vinny. Making new friends at that age, plus learning to run a household – I helped out by cooking and doing laundry when I could, just to give my Dad a break, but Vinny had to handle it all, and so suddenly! I felt really bad for him. Resting my hand on his thigh in a display of sympathy, I squeezed the fat bulge to provide some sort of comfort.
"It must be really hard, Vinny..." I squeezed again – it sure was a big phone, must be one of those giant old school ones – I realised maybe I could help them out a little, at least until they figured out how to use the stove and washing machine for themselves. Eddy knew all about my domestic skills. "Maybe there's something I can do to help?" Mr D'Angelo's eyes widened and he grunted. He seemed genuinely shocked that his son's teenaged best friend would make such a generous offer. "Are you serious, Tommy? I mean Eddy told me about... but I didn't really believe it..."
"I'm dead serious Mr D'Ang... I mean, Vinny. I'd be more than happy to." I squirmed in my seat – the twitch was back in full force. Vinny turned his head to glance a few rows back at Dad, snoring and drooling against the window. Next he looked over at Eddy, who was still deep in conversation with the AV geeks - geez, how many hilarious pics did he have on his phone anyway? They were STILL laughing!. Finally he looked down at my fingertips curiously tracing the massive outline in his shorts, beginning near his hip and ending almost at his furry knee. I giggled a little at the ridiculous size of this phone from the 1990s. I smirked at him, "I didn't even know they made them this big!"
Vinny stared at me and slowly raised a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw. I tried to hold his gaze... but the more he stared, the more my itchy jockhole tightened and relaxed in waves. I bit my lip. "Um... I need to use the restroom... excuse me Vinny," and before it got any worse, I lifted my hand from his thigh and shuffled my way past him into the aisle. This time I was sure my glutes wobbled in his face because I heard him inhale sharply. Passing Dad in his seat, I hightailed it to the back of the plane. Luckily there was no line. Slipping inside, I slammed the door shut and jiggled the lock – great, just what I needed, a faulty lock – but I had a worse problem that needed attention.
In the privacy of that bathroom, I was able to completely shuck my tank and shorts and hang them on the handy hook at the back of the door. Taking a seat, I was able to recline just enough in the small space to spread my legs (propping one foot up on the metal basin) and slap my hand down on the pucker that gave me so much grief. Aaaahhh... relief. A few more spanks and I almost felt normal. But the itch was worse today. Yanking the thin pink strap of material from between my smooth buns, I applied more and more force in my puck-slaps. Each time my fingertip made contact with my tight winking asshole, it relaxed a little. Remembering what Eddy had said, I licked my index finger and held it poised over my exposed ass. `Well, here goes nothing!' I thought as I braced myself, shut my eyes tight and jammed it inside.
To say the least, I wasn't expecting my pucker to clamp down on my finger like it was hungry or something. The twitching hadn't stopped – if anything it had gotten worse – and I moaned, wondering if Eddy's advice wasn't exactly sound. He did say a finger or two...' I mused, maybe if...'. Slowly removing my wet finger, I licked a second digit and roughly jammed both in place of the first. This time I squealed! Like a reflex, my strong legs started quivering even as my pucker slurped those fingers in, swallowing my knuckles until they could get no deeper. Leaning my head back, I sighed. `So THIS is what Eddy was talking about!' Despite my best judgment, I closed my eyes and began pumping my fingers in and out of my tiny, spit-lubed puck.
Honestly, I only closed my eyes for what felt like seconds... but when I opened them, the doorway of that modest space was filled with the hulking frame of Mr D'Angelo! His eyes were wild and he quickly stepped inside the restroom and slammed the flimsy door behind him, not caring that (once again) it didn't seem to lock. I considered how it must have looked - my tank top and shorts hanging from a hook, one leg extended and resting on the edge of the metal sink so I had unhindered access to my bright pink jockhole. Worst of all was that not one but TWO of my fingers were slicked up with spit and twisting themselves in a circular motion in my slowly-stretching puck. I had a flashback to an old porn video Eddy had shown me once, back before the most innocent of searches would return about a million hardcore XXX results on the net. It was one of his Dad's VHS tapes and had a scene scarily similar to my current position - a nymphomaniac spread and playing with her pussy, until some guido discovered her and proceeded to throat-bang her. At the time I had begged Eddy to turn it off (it was way too nasty for me) but he insisted on watching the whole scene. I guess Eddy had the same tastes in porn as his Dad.
My current contortionist act didn't seem to faze him – he must have needed to take a leak real bad! As if reading my mind, he growled "Haven't got much time," and deftly unbuttoned and unzipped, shoving his cargo shorts to his knees. What greeted my eyes was a solid 11 inch cylinder of prime Italian beef. The hairiest dick I had ever seen sprouted from an unkempt garden of bushy brown pubes and extended outwards in a nasty curve to a dark purple head in a generous hood of skin. It wagged in the air between us and I briefly wondered how the hell he was planning to piss with a vicious boner like that? A quick glance at his shorts confirmed my fear – there was no cellphone in his pocket at all.
Up until now, the flight had been smooth. But the force at which he half-lumbered, half-crashed towards me told me that we must have hit some extremely rough turbulence. Displaying a distinct lack of finesse, his hands slammed against the wall above my head and his surprisingly gooey knob rammed against my mouth, my lips unintentionally peeling back that foreskin until the plum-sized cockhead filled my oral cavity. Pinned by his weight and still fingering my fluttering pucker, his curved hog began its accidental and unfortunate descent down my straight throat. I gurgled my disappointment but Vinny's feet were fixed to the floor – no doubt in an attempt to brace himself against the back-and-forth rocking of the plane that I couldn't seem to feel. I could barely make out his sack through all that pubic fur, but I couldn't deny that two nuts as large as billiard balls were getting dangerously close to my chin.
My throat fought the invading member but my gag reflex was no match for such a beastly cock with all that muscle propelling it forward. There was no use fighting it. And like a hot knife through butter, 11 inches of dong meat bottomed out balls deep. Mr D'Angelo expressed his own disbelief and horror by pounding his fist against the wall. With one hand frigging my increasingly pliable asshole on auto-pilot, I raised my free hand to squeeze his furry buttock to let him know I was just as disappointed with this series of unfortunate events. I could only imagine what was running through his head – with his Italian sausage stuffed entirely inside his son's straight best friend. But what could he do? The turbulence was too much for his solid weight and each time he retreated, to where his cockhead pulled back to pause at the opening of my throat, he would lose control and I'd end up with my nose deep in his pubes once again. He grunted, "Fuck that's deep" and I patted his muscled ass to calm him, nodding in assent. Well, I tried to nod. All I really achieved was nuzzling my face into his groin.
After a few minutes of this, my brain ticked (the wheels turned slowly but I never said I was the brightest spark) to find a way out of this. I remembered all the times before... how the `danger zone' was only reached when a set of nuts pulled up and... that was it! If I could stop his big balls from rising, I would save us both the embarrassment of Vinny emptying his baby batter into my mouth! Moving quickly, I let go of his flexing asscheek and surrounded his nutsack with my fingers, tugging downwards. He exhaled deeply, curling his lip as he stared down at me, and this time he managed to withdraw his throbbing member until it had almost fully exited my mouth. My tongue stabbed into his foreskin and swirled, sucking a deep breath in. But my relief was short lived. I cursed the bumpy plane ride and yanked harder on his balls as his donkey dick buried itself in my neck, once again cutting off my air supply. Vinny was clearly upset – he even rested his forehead against the wall above my head in despair. This continued for a few minutes; he would get so close to removing his drooling cock from my warm, wet mouth but couldn't quite manage it. He even whispered down to me, "So close..." and I yanked as roughly as I could on his hairy scrotum to try and pop that monster out.
Admittedly, with all the struggling and throat fucking, we both lost track of time. I was brought back to reality (and experienced a weird sense of déjà vu) when I heard a gentle knock on the toilet door and a very familiar voice asking "Tommy? Hey, Tommy, you in there?" We both froze – well, I froze while Mr D'Angelo continued to battle against his physical instability, his hips thrusting smoothly and rhythmically and maybe even a little faster in apparent panic. The door swung open – and there stood Eddy, alone (thank God) and from the contorted look on his face, clearly having trouble processing what he was seeing. It's not every day you see your best friend fingerbanging his own jockcunt and seemingly practising a sword-swallowing act on your own father's hog. Eddy shook his head in disbelief and raised his cellphone to shield his eyes from the embarrassing sight in front of him.
Vinny didn't seem to hear his son, and certainly didn't even look back. It seemed that the shock of being caught had triggered his immense weapon's innate need to fire. Frantically and roughly pulling on his sack had no effect as his stallion meat (so THAT'S why people called him the Italian Stallion!) swelled and began to belch out a healthy dose of natural protein. He pounded his fists against the wall and snarled, obviously (like me) wishing that none of this had ever happened. A violent spray of man-milk squirted down my throat and I watched as his bullnuts shrank in my hand with each gush. They practically shrivelled... while my abs pooched out with the copious load of fresh Italian sperm filling up my stomach. The scene was too much for Eddy, and I wondered if he would ever speak to me again as he quietly and calmly walked back to where the AV geeks sat. I whimpered, assuming that my hopes of ever having a sleepover at the D'Angelos' house again had been dashed.
At least our audience was gone... and the balanced way Eddy walked to his seat told me that the in-flight turbulence had stopped, at least for now. My suspicions were realised as truth when Vinny took a controlled step backwards and his low-hanging sack fell from my hand. He was panting heavily and his polo shirt showed two distinct wet patches where the pit sweat had soaked right through. More sweat splattered against the mirror as he flicked his head side to side like a dog and rolled his shoulders. I moaned to get his attention... and he looked down to realise that his knob was still in my mouth, no longer spewing jizz but simply resting on my tongue.
His gigantic cock seemed stuck. Vinny grabbed it at the base and squeezed inch by inch until his fingers met my lips. This unfortunately caused the last of his thick load to ooze out onto my tongue. Realising that a little more force was needed, he gave the side of my face a few slaps to dislodge his prick, and with two steps backwards he was finally able to release his spent horsecock from between my lips. Showing incredible speed, he pulled up and refastened his shorts and winked at me. "Don't worry Tom, I won't tell your Dad about this one. Friends like us keep secrets," he said before turning to leave. In his post-cum haze he forgot to even try to close the cubicle door behind him, so I was left scrambling to get dressed before another passenger came by. I returned to my seat, passing the hushed tones of Eddy and his new friends. They glanced at me quickly and then turned away, but I knew that there was no way Eddy would tell them what he saw – it was too embarrassing for him, me AND his Dad! I resigned myself to the fact that if Eddy hated me now, at least in Vinny I had made a new friend – just like my Dad wanted!
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