Hey guys, Thanks so much for all the kind words and emails (and pics!). Sorry for the long wait with this one; work has been crazy busy. I've told a lot of my fans about this one and hopefully it lives up to all the boners! I hate to say it... but this is a bit of a finale for our dumb jock.
If you haven't already, check out my tumblr! http://dumbhornyjock.tumblr.com/
Here are some stories about my adventures as an 18yo dumb jock... well, more like misunderstandings and accidents.
Our vacation away didn't seem to cheer Dad up. Returning home was a relief of sorts but I missed the way we used to be. Even though the construction work was finished on our house, Dad still seemed upset. He can be a hard man to please sometimes. He was very quiet around me and frowned a lot. It worried me... we had always had such a great relationship; what had changed? I secretly wore the pink bikini briefs every day as my own personal tribute to him. They had been such a thoughtful gift after all.
My buddies at my all-white school could tell something was bothering me. They tried to cheer me up during class and at lunch by telling me dirty jokes and passing me notes filled with nasty cartoon pictures they drew of mammoth-sized cocks blowing thick ropes or popping tiny little holes. Eddy always drew the biggest and nastiest looking dicks. It made me smile; I was lucky to have friends like them to take my mind off things at home. Sometimes though, those drawings just made me squirm as my pucker spazzed out and I spent more and more afternoons on my bed after school, stripped to my bikini briefs and snapping the thin strap against my jockhole again and again.
It was during one of these snapping-sessions that my eyes drifted upwards above my head to the broken shelf and I finally realised why my Dad had been so upset lately. It was because all of my prized football trophies were broken (during that unfortunate incident with the Puerto Rican foreman)! Dad had always been so proud of my athletic accomplishments. I resolved then and there while firmly slapping my twitching straight teen asshole that I would take up a new sport and win some new trophies to win back my Dad's admiration.
The next day at school, I stopped Coach Celik in the hall and told him my plan. I even made sure noone nearby was listening in and detailed the whole story of how the trophies had become broken in the first place. I knew I could trust Coach. He stayed silent the entire time, comfortably leaning against my locker with that smirk on his face, adjusting his junk every now and then (another reason why he should wear underwear). When my tale was done he nodded and simply asked me if I was still wearing the pink jockstrap he had kindly given me. I grinned and hooked my thumbs into my shorts, tugging them down underneath my smooth glutes.
His eyes widened - he definitely wasn't expecting to see me in a pair of pink bikini briefs! I explained that they had been a gift as he ran a thick finger up and down the strap, to see if the material really was as soft as it looked. At that moment my buddies walked past, joking and laughing and horsing around as usual. Eddy held out his arms to stop them all in their tracks when they saw me and Coach - eyes bugging out and jaws dropping. I guess they were just jealous that they didn't have loving fathers who would buy them such thoughtful gifts.
Coach smiled at them and growled `What do ya think boys? Should our friend here join the wrestling team?' All they could do was nod dumbly as my exposed bubble butt bounced right there in the hall. And as quickly as that, I had found my new sport.
Dad was even more proud than I could have predicted. He smiled at me for the first time in weeks and ruffled my hair the way he used to when I was little. He instantly got on the phone to two of his colleagues at the office who were wrestling stars in their own right back in college. Dad assured me he would be front row, centre for my first match and would even bring his two work buddies along for additional support. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face that night - finally I had the chance to get back into Dad's good books.
Wrestling practice was even easier than I expected. Coach Celik said the best way for me to learn was to observe, so I spent most afternoons watching my muscled up buddies throwing and pinning each other on the mats. Coach sat beside me with a fatherly arm around my shoulders, his fingers dropping low every so often to give me a lower back massage at the top of my shorts. He would growl in my ear, asking me if I was wearing the pink thong or the pink jockstrap today.
After class when my friends had gone home, he would have me strip down to whatever I had on underneath (usually the jock, I didn't want to offend him by leaving it at home) and I would practise my one "special move". Coach would watch me work up a sweat for a good hour, on all fours while I arched my back, pumping my teen muscles as he sat shirtless nearby with both hands supporting his massive bulge. Every so often he would absently shake it a little and I would blush, remembering my embarrassment at having that big Turkish schlong stuck in my mouth during the parent-teacher interview. Coach and I never talked about it - I guess it was too embarrassing for him to think about as well. After two short weeks of me practising my "special move", Coach proudly told me it was time for my first meet.
Driving me home after our time in the gym, he excitedly explained that it would be an exhibition match with one of the local colleges. Cruising along the streets to my house, he flipped through songs on his iPod while driving. I squirmed and timidly told Coach Celik that I wasn't sure I was ready for a real public wrestling match after only two weeks.
'Nonsense, champ,' he grinned like a Cheshire cat, 'you'll give 'em something to remember for years to come. Hell, you might even end up with a scholarship out of it!'
Now THAT placated me. A college scholarship? A free ride where Dad didn't have to pay a cent? An exhibition match suddenly sounded like a great idea. I patted my hand on his thick, hairy thigh. 'OK Coach, I'll do it!'
'Attaboy!' He grinned again and ruffled my hair, cursing as the iPod slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor between the pedals. Coach Celik simply pointed downwards and raised his eyebrows. I got the hint and leaned over his lap to stretch down and reach it. This mashed my face against his floppy bulge while his big sneakered feet knocked the iPod around as I tried to grab it, the clumsy oaf. That's how I spent the rest of the drive home - grinding my flushed cheeks and mouth against his covered junk while he laughed and sang along to the music, honking and waving at all the cars that passed us by.
When the big day finally arrived, I was nervous to say the least! Dad couldn't have been more excited. Over a "champion's breakfast" of sausages and eggs, he told me again about his own glory days wrestling in high school and in college. Checking his watch, he hurried me along - I barely had time to change into my pink jockstrap, shorts and a tee before we were out the door and on our way to school. Dad walked me down the hallway to the boys' locker room where a crude handwritten sign that said 'Competitors only' was taped to the door. I was about to tell him I was sure it would be OK for him to come in with me - besides, I needed the support - when his phone rang.
Dad answered and whispered to me, 'It's Christos. Must be out in the parking lot with Janos.' Excitedly giving me a pat on the back and a thumbs up sign, Dad walked back down the hallway to meet his colleagues, already talking about making sure they all got front row seats. I had never met anyone from his office but I knew that Christos and Janos went by the collective nickname 'the Big D boys', I guess because they were both divorced. For some reason, Dad hated the nickname and only ever called them by their first names.
Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I pushed open the locker room door and stepped inside. I was met with an unfamiliar face, framed by some tightly braided dreadlocks that I found fascinating. Next to my locker stood a man putting on a green wrestling singlet with a yellow cross on the front and black trim at the sides, with skin the colour of dark chocolate! He definitely wasn't a student at my school - standing at 6'4, surely I would have noticed him before! He had to be one of the visiting college wrestlers. Tentatively, I walked over to him and put my bag down on the bench as he continued adjusting his singlet and what appeared to be a sizeable bulge in front. Turning towards me, he gave me a dazzling white smile and held out his hand to shake. This forced me to face him and I blushed as I realised his singlet was a little small. The thick tube of still-soft black meat at his crotch was lying across his thigh, angled downwards, and was dangerously close to popping out the leg of the stretched spandex. I felt a sharp twitch as my pucker spasmed and I had to focus to keep it under control.
'H-hi,' I stammered, 'I'm Tommy. Nice to meet you!'
'Darius,' he offered in a surprisingly deep voice for a college student. 'I gotta say, I've been looking forward to this!'
As we shook hands, Coach Celik burst through the door, rubbing his hands together eagerly. He walked up behind me and slapped one of his large hands against my ass, firmly squeezing the pliable flesh through my shorts like he always did. 'Ah, I see you two have met! Great, great... Tommy, this is Darius. He's known as "Driller" around campus because... well I guess you'll find out. He'll be your collegiate opponent for the match today. As you probably guessed, he hails from Jamaica and he's very proud of his heritage!'
I gave Coach a blank look. Coach rolled his eyes. 'His singlet, Tommy... it's the Jamaican flag!' I just shrugged - geography had never been my thing. I guess none of my subjects were really my thing. I gulped audibly at the sudden realisation that Darius - or Driller - was the guy I was supposed to beat today in front of EVERYONE. The doubts were creeping in.
Resting a hand on Coach's burly chest I whispered 'Um Coach? Could I talk to you... in private?' Coach rolled his eyes for a second time and looked to Driller, cocking his head towards the door. The muscular Jamaican frat boy took the hint.
'Good to meet you. See you on the mat!' Driller adjusted his junk again and then patted my cheek before leaving the locker room. I sniffed - his fingers had smelled like a salty old sneaker. When we were alone, Coach Celik took his hand off my ass - only to slide both hands down the back of my shorts and grip my bubble butt. He leaned in close, the way a mentor does, and manoeuvred me until my back was against the lockers with his lips right against my ear.
'What is it champ? Go on, talk to me.' His deep voice sent shivers through me, giving me the strange sensation that he was casually jiggling my teen muscle butt in his paws. In this position, I had nowhere to rest my hands except against Coach's pecs.
'Coach,' I sighed, absently clutching his impressive chest through his red polo shirt, 'Don't you think Driller... I mean Darius... is a little... you know... BIG?'
Coach chuckled deeply, his lips barely grazing my earlobe. This time it really felt like he was kneading my ass, as if my buttocks were ripe fruit. I let out a quiet moan. 'Tommy... listen very carefully, champ. I'm not gonna lie - size matters. Don't ever forget that. But if you start by taking on a BIG one, it will make all the rest seem easy. You're gonna make us all so proud.' I knew better than to argue with Coach, but before I could even try I felt his fingertip rapidly flick across my hairless hole. It made my knees weak and I squealed as a series of electric shocks made my puck palpitate. Coach hadn't even noticed though - he withdrew his hands from my shorts, pushed himself away from the lockers and began walking towards the door. He turned and pointed at my locker as I quickly sat my cushiony ass on the bench to hide my wobbly legs.
'You're gonna be great,' he grunted, his voice a lot huskier than it was a minute ago. 'I got you a present - it's in your locker. It may not look like much but it was lucky for me and I'm sure it'll be lucky for you. Don't forget to wear your jockstrap underneath, and don't forget that special move. You'll know when to use it.' With a wink and a smirk he was out the door, leaving me - with a supercharged twitching jockhole - to collect my thoughts and prepare.
With Coach's encouraging words repeating in my head, I opened my locker. Inside was the gift Coach Celik has left for me, bunched up and looking slightly unwashed. It was a wrestling singlet, obviously his own from his glory days, covered in stars and stripes. I held it up and sniffed it - it smelled decidedly like Coach, musky and manly. But it definitely looked a little small. Testing the stretch of the spandex, I figured it would bring me good luck like it had Coach, and begin stripping down to try it on.
Sliding on my pink jockstrap, the locker room door creaked open and a familiar face peered inside. `Tommy... yo, Tommy, you in here?' It was Eddy - coming by to wish me luck no doubt before my first big match. His eyes popped open when he saw me adjusting my straps, my ass jiggling as he walked over, dropped his backpack and gave me a hug. Like Coach, his hands automatically went to my bubble butt... but I was used to that from Eddy. He was always so concerned with how my itching, twitching jockbutt was doing. I hugged him back. 'Where have you been bro?' I questioned him, 'I've barely seen you since the class trip!'
Eddy sighed against my neck and flicked his fingertips against the bottom of my phat asscheeks. 'I've been busy, bud... sorry for neglecting you... I've been hanging with my new friends, the guys from the AV team!'
I wrinkled my nose. 'The nerds? But you've never liked them...' Eddy shrugged and started fishing around in his bag. 'Yeah I know... I was kind of a jerk to them... but I found out we have a lot on common... and they needed a volunteer to help with the AV today!'
I gulped. 'AV? For the match, you mean?' Eddy nodded excitedly, pulling a small tub out of his backpack. 'Oh yeah, we're broadcasting the match onto a big screen TV in the gym. Don't stress bud, I'll make sure we get all your best angles. Anyway, I've got you a present... and I've been meaning to ask, how's your puck?' Eddy handed me the tub of jelly, the same I had been using for a few weeks to soothe my hole whenever it started spasming. The mere mention of my pucker made my hole begin to twitch violently, remembering the way Coach's finger had accidentally rubbed against it only minutes before.
Gratefully, I took the tub from him and sat on the bench behind me. 'It's awful bro... I haven't twitched this bad since... well, ever!' Eddy nodded and smiled, kneeling in front of me. He gently took hold of my ankles. 'Well what you need to do bud...' He lifted and spread my legs, slowly, exposing my tiny pink knothole, 'is try and soothe it a little...' With his arms stretched out wide, he had me splayed out like I was doing the splits, 'before you go out there and take on that BIG brute! Go on, don't be shy!' I didn't know why I felt weird in this position, it was just my best buddy Eddy after all, so I scooped out a little of the jelly and began applying it to my hairless hole.
'Oh so you met Driller... I mean, Darius?' Eddy nodded, watching my spread the stuff all around my pink pucker. 'Hell yeah I did, I helped Coach choose him as your opponent! Had to give you a challenge for your first time, right?' Eddy grunted and licked his lips. 'Use more.'
Nodding, I gathered more of the jelly on my finger and slapped in against my asshole. This time a finger slipped in due to the amount of lubrication now coating my hole. It slowly slipped in as I moaned from the sensation, as Eddy groaned along with me in sympathy.
Eddy continued. 'Sure he's big, but you can take all he's got. Everything's been leading up to this moment, little dude. Don't let his size freak you out. I hate to say it, don't wanna embarrass you, but did you see his package? Man, his front bump was bouncing like crazy when I passed him in the hall just now.' Eddy grunted, 'Now use two fingers.'
Thinking about Driller's bulge, or at least what I had briefly seen before Coach had arrived, I shivered. On autopilot, I dug out even more of the slimy goo and stuffed two fingers into my slowly stretching jockhole. Eddy exhaled sharply and wouldn't shut up about the college boy's junk. 'Yeah... he was big... huge even... I can't imagine... having a dick that big... and his skin is so dark... he must have a BBC... hmm, what's that stand for again?'
My fingers slowly worked in and out of my increasingly spasming boyhole, twisting them as Eddy made sure my toned legs stayed spread as far as possible. 'It's a... big black cock...', I groaned, corkscrewing my fingers in my butt, feeling my tight assring clamp and clench but then begin to relax just a little. I couldn't remember exactly where I'd heard the term... but I knew it was right.
Eddy rolled his eyes and grinned. 'That's right, how could I forget? A big black cock... remember that for me, yeah? I don't want to forget it again.' I nodded and moaned as my two slick fingers bottomed out in my hole, making my whole body buck. The smile momentarily fell from Eddy's face. 'Say it,' he grunted.
Say what, I thought. Oh right. 'Big black cock,' I repeated back to him.
Eddy nodded once, placing my feet on his shoulders and leaning over me. His hands rested against my smooth pecs, by chance ending up with his thumbs barely brushing my rock hard nipples. 'Say it again. This time say "Driller has a big black cock"...'
I whimpered, fingerbanging my teen puck a little more hurriedly. My body was on fire, sweating, cheeks flushed, my hole going into overdrive. Panting, I squeaked out, 'Driller... has a big black cock! Fuck Eddy, I think I'm gonna...!'
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Coach's familiar voice boomed out, 'You finished gettin' him ready, Eddy? 5 minutes until match time!' Eddy grabbed my wrist and yanked my fingers from my slick, spasming pucker, leaving it wet, winking and untouched in the cool air. The electric sensations were still flowing through me but they seemed to be subsiding. Letting my wobbly legs fall back to the floor, my best bud stood and called back, 'Oh yeah, he's ready Coach. It's go time!' Turning back to me, he pointed at the singlet Coach had left for me. 'Get that thing on and get your ass out there, little dude. This is gonna be epic!'
Lying flat on the bench in my pink jockstrap, I realised how close I had come to embarrassing myself in front of my best bro. With nothing but my own fingers in my juicy jockhole, I had almost experienced what felt like an orgasm... only different. The strange sensations had begun building from deep within me, pulsing and radiating out until my entire body had nearly been overwhelmed. I shook my head to gain some clarity - I would try my hardest not to lose control like that ever again. Even though it felt good, starting to enjoy a feeling like that could only lead to trouble.
Standing, I began to pull on Coach's old wrestling singlet over my jock. It was difficult to stretch the thing apart enough for me to slide on. While it smelled decidedly like Coach Celik, it seemed so small that I wondered how he ever even stuffed his huge, brutish body into it. There were a few crunchy stains on it, those were the hardest to un-bunch, but despite being a little dirty I was excited to wear the 'lucky' spandex. I struggled to fit my wobbling, muscled asscheeks into it and admired my stars-and-stripes covered butt in a nearby mirror. Hopefully it would bring me luck too.
Walking out into the hall and towards the gym, I realised my puckering asshole was still squelching with the slime I had used to satiate it earlier. It was another odd feeling, and one that made my legs shake a little as I tried to keep my composure. I couldn't deny that I was excited about my first REAL wrestling match, even if my opponent was an enormous black frat. My jaw dropped as I pushed open the gym doors and took in the sight before me. The bleachers were PACKED with other wrestling jocks, from my high school and other nearby schools and colleges, and their fathers. I didn't notice any women in the crowd - they probably had better things to do on their Saturday anyway. Seeing Dad made me smile - there he was, front row and centre, flanked on either side by 'the Big D boys'. Christos was on his right and Janos on his left - the former was Greek or at least Mediterranean, maybe Maltese, while the latter was from Eastern Europe. They both spoke in heavily accented English but Dad seemed to enjoy their company; I sadly knew it was because they were "white enough", at least by his standards. They were in deep conversation as I entered, glutes bouncing wildly in the tight singlet, but Dad's eyes lit up with pride and he gave me a double thumbs-up. Christos and Janos both turned to look at me - their eyes wide and mouths opened with the same pride. 'The Big D boys' each had an elbow resting on one of Dad's shoulders, and they took a moment to sneak a look of slack-jawed admiration at each other behind Dad's back. I guess it's not every day you see a young jock like me pursuing a new athletic interest.
I waved back, before catching sight of Eddy at the side of the gym. He had been telling the truth - there he was, behind an expensive looking video camera, swinging it left and right on its tripod with a bored look on his face alongside the AV geeks. The geeks looked a little uncomfortable with him there but they were probably just jealous that he got to work the camera instead of taking the still photos they were left to snap of the auditorium. Eddy waved when he saw me and I waved back. He pointed behind me and as I turned, I noticed the HUGE projector screen hanging from the rafters. On it was the display of the camera Eddy manned, currently switching between a view of the pumped up crowd and the wrestling mat, situated below the screen in the middle of the gym. I gulped - my first wrestling match was daunting enough but having it enlarged to fit an entire wall was another thing entirely. Nervously, my slick puck twitched underneath my singlet.
I walked towards where Coach Celik, Driller and a burly black man who must have been Driller's Coach stood beside the mat. Coach rapidly raised his eyebrows at me while Driller just grinned and licked his lips. The black Coach had his beefy arms folded across his chest and didn't speak. I didn't even notice the microphone in Coach Celik's hand until his deep, booming voice began echoing throughout the auditorium.
'And now... the exhibition wrestling match you've all been waiting for... our collegiate competitor from Benjamin Brown College, better known as BBC - Darius "Driller" Jordan!' The crowd clapped and chants of 'BBC! BBC!' were heard across the bleachers. Even Eddy was excitedly shouting 'BBC!' right along with them. I couldn't help but grin - didn't they realise that stood for "big black cock"? Dad frowned as Christos and Janos, although looking slightly bemused, picked up the chant. It took all my willpower not to embarrass Darius by sneaking another look at his ridiculously bulging crotch-fruit.
Coach chuckled. 'And his opponent... representing all high school jocks... our very own... blonde-haired, blue-eyed virgin... virgin to wrestling that is... hungry for attention... ready for anything... he's a newcomer, and yes he's 18 folks... Tommy Hardwick!' I clasped my hands together and raised them above my head, jumping up and down to psych myself up. This made my too-tight singlet even more snug on my bubble butt and I could feel my asscheeks jiggling outrageously. 'Smile for the wrestling scouts,' Coach hissed, although I couldn't see any officials in the crowd. The fathers, sons, coaches, students and fans from both BBC and my own high school roared my name. There were even random shouts of 'You can do it!', 'Put on a good show!' and a slightly confusing whoop of 'What? Not gonna buy him dinner first?'
A grunt from Coach Celik signalled that it was time. Glancing to the side, Dad looked a little conflicted, like he wanted to run over and give me a last piece of advice. The Big D boys kept him firmly in his seat though, practically holding him down, knowing the match was about to begin and talking to distract him from his obvious nerves on my behalf.
'Shake and get on the mat, gentlemen.' Driller's big black paw engulfed my hand and shook it firmly, pulling me in closer. He whispered, 'You sure you're ready for all this?' and actually looked a little concerned for me. Even if I wasn't, it was too late to back out now. I couldn't crush Dad by giving up on something he was so excited about, could I? 'I'm ready... don't hold back, OK big guy?'
Darius exhaled. 'Good. Cos I've been on edge for 'bout two weeks now, and Imma 'bout ready to explode.' I could sympathise with him. The build-up and tension of the last few weeks had been almost unbearable. We took our starting stances on the mat and waited. My pucker twitched, thankfully hidden behind the tight spandex.
Coach Celik blew his whistle - it was ON! All that training leading up to this moment... actually come to think of it there wasn't much training at all. Before the shrill sound had even stopped, Darius was behind me. He was fast - really fast - with the moves of a jungle cat. With one arm wrapped across my pecs, one around my waist and one of his strong legs hooked around mine, we both crashed to the ground. This put us both on all fours - I had been well and truly pinned by this black college musclejock in under three seconds. Squirming, I felt a semi-hard, thinly covered fratboy dick grinding against my buns. Panting, I mumbled, 'Big black cock.'
Our fans were going absolutely crazy - I'd never heard a group MAKE so much noise! Their eyes were glued either to the big-screen projection provided by Eddy's camera skills or the live-action unfolding on the mat. Darius' black, muscled arm wrapped around my pecs held my chest down to the floor, his forearm crushed against my perky jocktits. His other arm at my waist briefly let go, and I must have imagined what felt like a sharp tug at my wrestling singlet before it returned. His feet kicked mine out wider and it felt like my thighs were almost at a 180-degree angle.
Suddenly I heard a sharp cracking noise, similar to opening a potato chip packet or when you rip open a velcro strap, and my pre-lubed asshole winked as I felt a cool breeze. Cool breeze? My mouth fell open and I gasped - just like the entire crowd did - as I realised the unthinkable had happened. Coach's old raggedy singlet, the one that seemed overly well-worn and far too small for a big stud like him, had given way! The lycra had torn completely down the centre and snapped to the sides, exposing the entirety of my smooth, beach ball ass and moist rosebud! I squirmed and craned my head upwards, catching sight of the screen hanging above us. There, in all its glory, for the entire audience to see, was my bubble butt. For some reason Eddy had zoomed in on it at what was without a doubt the worst possible moment. If I hadn't been so humiliated, I would have found it funny how quiet the room got as they were forced to stare at my jiggling ass-globes and tight cherry hole.
Whipping my head to the left, I saw Coach Celik casually talking with the Coach from Benjamin Brown College. They hadn't even noticed! Turning my head even further back, as much as I could in Darius' strong embrace, I locked eyes with Dad. He looked angry - angry with himself that he hadn't thought to purchase a singlet that would actually fit me. He looked like he wanted to launch off the bleachers and protect my modesty, but the Big D boys were quick to act. Christos and Janos each slapped a hand down on one of Dad's thighs, and with their other arms pushing down on his shoulders, they kept him in place. They knew that having Dad stop the match would only embarrass me more and I was grateful that they had come along to support me.
Groaning, I realised I had to do SOMETHING if I wanted any chance of winning against Darius. Coach hadn't even started counting us out so there was still time. The thought struck me like lightning - my special move! The move Coach Celik had been forcing me to practise, day in and day out, for the last two weeks! I could have kicked myself! It was time to unleash... "the booty dance".
It was called "the booty dance" and wasn't very well known because, as Coach had explained time and time again, it was a very technical move that not every wrestler had the capability to execute. The only way I was able to master it was with his diligent guidance and mentoring... gee, Coach really was the best. I humped my hips upwards, arching my back until my spread, naked boybutt briefly began to grind against Darius' fratboy bulge. The Jamaican jock groaned huskily in my ear and I thought maybe, with a little luck from Coach's lucky singlet, I could buck him off and regain the advantage. Lowering my hips again quickly, my glutes wobbled and bounced on the downstroke before rising up again. Lifting and dropping my ass in rapid succession, I channelled every ounce of strength into my special move, while Eddy conscientiously made sure not a moment of my efforts was missed by the camera. There were legitimate groans of incredulity from the men witnessing it - obviously they had never seen an athlete successfully administer this move in their entire lives!
Darius was clearly as surprised as them since his own deep rumbling hadn't stopped since I first began the move. Up and down, up and down, up, down, up, down - my thick thighs powered my glutes to bounce at maximum speed in my attempt to throw him off me. He leaned in too close and his full lips brushed my earlobe. 'Shit... you want it that bad, huh white boy? You think you've got what it takes to take on BBC?' I could only pant from the exertion and nod - of course I wanted to win - finding it hard to believe that even Darius didn't understand the rude nickname for his school. 'Big black cock!', I whined.
His hand slid from around my waist and there was another loud SNAP, quickly followed by a second collective gasp from the wrestling fans. This time I felt something thick and hot slap between my naked ass-cakes. I continued twerking on it and shot a look over to Coach to gauge how I was doing. He was staring at the screen, holding his hand over his mouth as if to hide smile, casually groping himself with his other hand as he always does. Following his gaze I briefly wondered if the camera broadcast had somehow switched to an X-rated interracial movie - a HUGE black cock was sandwiched between a delicious looking ass, grinding and rubbing as if it was trying to burrow inside. My jaw dropped - that was MY ass! Which meant... Darius' insanely huge fratboy dong had slipped free from his own ill-fitting singlet, and was now being firmly hot-dogged by my buns! The AV geeks looked like they were trying to intervene and take over Eddy's camera duties, but the stern look on his face convinced them that he had it all under control. They backed away from him, cowering - Eddy was clearly taking his new hobby very seriously. Still, I groaned - shouldn't wardrobe malfunctions be reason enough to halt a match?
I think the technical term for his cock was "fucking enormous". From the bulge I saw earlier in the locker room, it didn't come as a surprise, but still... feeling the pulsing rod of flesh as I humped my rear end against it sure was a new sensation. I'm no expert but calling it a "foot long" may not have done his pole justice. My greased-up cherry puck pulsed each time his oozing knob poked against it... but it felt good. After months of trying to tame my twitching hole, I finally had someone doing it for me, even if it was the result of an unfortunate (and very public) mishap. The pink button nestled between my musclebutt seemed to appreciate the attention... so I kept hunching my rump against his throbbing BBC. A little relief couldn't hurt, right?
But I'd forgotten about Dad! This was exactly the kind of accident he probably had nightmares about. I looked back to see him blinking back tears, muscles pumped, tapping his foot and wrenching his body forward in sharp jerky motions. The Big D boys were still there, holding him back, using all their strength to keep him seated. My assring puckered and relaxed, still slippery from the goo Eddy had provided me with before the match. When the crown of his beautiful (did I say beautiful? I guess it was an impressive looking piece, especially when blown up on the big screen) ebony schlong began nudging at my hungry hole, I panicked and froze. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion. On the screen, I watched as the tip of his meatstick inevitably slid inside, busting open my straight-but-needy jockboy sphincter. My fears of any pain were allayed by the fact I had stretched and lubed my ass under Eddy's guidance only minutes before the match - a lucky coincidence. The entire auditorium was stunned into inaction - not a single viewer could bring himself to move (let alone stop this clear disaster from occurring), although the intermittent grunts and groans from the crowd continued.
All thoughts of wrestling exited my head as for the first time in my young life, a ridiculously fat donkey dick began stuffing inside me. My poor pink puck had never faced such an intruder but I had to admit, it didn't feel entirely bad... actually, it felt good. The stretch Darius' prick gave me was what I'd been needing all along. My blue eyes rolled back and my tongue lolled out of my mouth. 'Big black cock!', I whimpered again. Darius himself seemed shocked at how quickly his tool was disappearing into my tight teen ass. 'So deep,' he rumbled, burying his face in the nape of my neck. When two sweaty, fuzzy grapefruit-sized orbs smooshed against my buttocks, I realised the inconvenient truth. I had a Jamaican fratboy's horsecock balls deep in my lily-white ass!
Now, this is the embarrassing part so brace yourselves. I quickly found out how Darius got his nickname... whether it was the embarrassment of being in a public forum, or the uncontrollable libido of a college athlete, or even my fault for inadvertently squeezing my puck and milking his thick veiny monster... Darius' hips began to roll. Arching a little, then firmly pushing forward again, my lubricated jockbutt provided only minimal resistance. Basically what I'm saying is... "Driller" began to drill me, right there on the mat. With all the energy you'd expect from a young frat, his hips began furiously pumping all on their own. Each time his dark tubesteak was completely buried in my ass, it hit a sensitive spot deep inside that made my body tremble and my pucker clench around his hairy dick root. He huffed as he drilled away at my tight but pliable tunnel, clearly disappointed that he couldn't control his urges. The slapping sound of his sticky bullnuts striking my glutes echoed throughout the assembly hall.
I shivered as his dong continued to expertly pummel my joy-button, sparing a thought for my battered, widening anus. 'Fuck...', I managed to squeak out, 'My hole!' Whether Driller heard my cry or not, it did nothing to stop the frantic stabbing of his drooling black snake... in fact, it felt like his movements became faster and even more erratic. I mustered up my courage and took one final glance up at the screen - the image before me, enlarged to make sure everyone in the gym could see it, was downright pornographic. If you hadn't witnessed this series of unfortunate events in succession, you'd think you were watching a hardcore motion picture of a black stud desperately trying to breed a white teen bubble butt - MY white teen bubble butt!
Ever heard of muscle memory? That must be what kicked in the moment his cock pierced my cherry and carved out a new home inside me. I felt sorry for the cheerleaders at Benjamin Brown College who had most likely been in my position, albeit probably in a more romantic setting. Every nerve, every sensation in my body was focused on the tugging and pulling of his engorged penis at my stretched out rosebud. His tight embrace was oddly comforting considering the circumstances. If he hadn't been holding me so firmly, the force of his onslaught would have pushed me forward and off his relentless manhood, where I'd surely smash my face into the mat and potentially break my nose.
The fucking - for lack of a better word - persisted. The foreign but undeniable pleasure experienced by my sensitive boyhole kept me stock-still, pinned on all fours with my ass angled up to accept every thrust of that veiny pipe. The strong hand at the end of the sinewy arm across my chest gropes my left, tugging at my sensitive nipple. Suddenly, the pleasure began to build further. On every downstroke, Driller's cockhead was incidentally bludgeoning my sweet-spot, reminding me of the similar sensation experienced during my solo asshole-soothing sessions. My eyes bugged - if he didn't stop, I feared Driller's BBC was going to make me cum in front of everyone! Unfortunately, I didn't have long to worry about it. It only took a few more deep-digging jabs before a surprising and exasperated high-pitched squeal emitted from my mouth. Without even having an erection (why would I? This was a fluke, not something to be aroused about) my toned body began to convulse in a mind-blowing, core-shaking orgasm originating from my almost-stuffed-to-breaking-point butt. I prayed no one would notice... but today my prayers went unanswered. I heard cheers from some of the men in the crowd - either they REALLY hadn't noticed what was going on right in front of them or they were confused about what they were seeing.
Despite the public humiliation, and despite having my cherry popped by someone I had met only fifteen minutes earlier... the orgasm was extreme. I almost blacked out from the intensity of it all, the thought barely registering in my mind that a big black cock had made me cum. Raising up slightly, I shot a look down and back between my spread legs - Dad was right in my line of sight, looking completely conquered and supremely disappointed that I was clearly losing my first wrestling match. He was slumped over, dejected... and obviously full of compassion for the unlucky misadventure that had befallen me. Christos and Janos had finally managed to subdue him, which in hindsight was the quick-thinking and considerate act of two good friends - surely if they had let Dad go, he would have MURDERED Driller (I mean, Darius) even though none of this was his fault.
Driller's deep voice brought me back to reality. He looked over at Coach Celik and his own Coach and nodded, before turning his head towards Eddy. 'Gonna cum', he grumbled, in a surprisingly calm voice. My body tensed in panic - we were well beyond simple wrestling now, but having this black stranger empty his nuts in my ass was unacceptable. But... how could I judge the poor guy, when I myself had unintentionally and irrepressibly climaxed only moments before! I resigned myself to the fact that his cock was clearly too big to pull out in time. After about ten long, deep strokes he instinctively sank his teeth into my neck and reached his peak. I hope you haven't, but have you ever had a black college stud unload inside you? Let me try to describe it.
I had heard rumours of a "no masturbation before a match" policy from the other athletes at my school. Obviously the same rule was enforced at Benjamin Brown College. What can only be described as a cumload big enough to choke a horse began to coat my insides. Like a super soaker set to maximum drenching capability, Driller's nuts were sucked way up inside his loose sack (suddenly not so loose) as his love gun fired all of his pent-up stress into my no-longer-virgin ass. The force of these thick, gooey cum-ropes splattering against my prostate was enough to dismally make me orgasm once again. Shaking from the acute and long-overdue gratification, my anal orifice seemed to welcome each blast of Jamaican baby batter dumped inside it. In a way, it was fortunate that he was emptying his black balls inside me and not one of the cheerleaders – they'd be pregnant without a doubt.
With a heart-wrenching moan at having shared my humiliation in front of so many people, Driller slid his deflating (but still huge) dong from my hole and stood. Fist-pumping the air in triumph - I guess he had won after keeping me pinned for so long - Driller gave me a sympathetic slap on one exposed asscheek and left the mat. I later learned from Eddy, when we repeatedly watched the tape together on his phone during lunch, that the sight of my gaping, pink boyhole, already beginning to ooze the fratboy's copious load, had finally stupefied the audience into a near-catatonic state. Coach Celik finally rushed over, resting his hand on the back of my neck with genuine concern, keeping my head down and ass raised in the process. 'Why didn't you tap out, Tommy?' he asked, brows furrowed. How stupid of me? All I had to do was tap out earlier and I could have spared both Driller and I (and the entire crowd) the shame of what had occurred. The only person to blame was me. The only consolation was maybe... just maybe... I'd impressed the wrestling scouts enough to earn a scholarship!
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