Gone Black - Chapter 15 - Morgan's Offer

Gone Black - Chapter 15 - Morgan's Offer

* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences – images, events, memories, and words – flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.

* Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble.

* If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location, or any other reason, don't read it.

* This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use without permission is prohibited. Please do not republish any part of this story without consent of the author.

- Please consider a contribution to Nifty to keep this forum healthy. Look for the `donate' button on the home page. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Author's Note: I appreciate feedback, reactions from readers and story suggestions (they are the main reason I post on Nifty). I try to respond to all. Email: ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

GONE BLACK

By Colton Aalto

CHAPTER 15 – MORGAN'S OFFER

I was in a fog for most of the next day, anticipating meeting Morgan Frederick and imagining playing ball for him. I arrived at the 20th Street gym early, only to check my cell and find a message from Marcus saying Morgan had gotten held up at a meeting and would be 45 minutes late. I was at least 15 minutes early, so that gave me an hour to kill. I almost returned home but was curious about the gym and figured as long as I was there that I'd check it out.

The place was ancient. According to the engraved stone above the door, it was built in 1908. It had been elegant when it was constructed, with elaborate stone and brickwork on the exterior. However, time had taken a toll and the gym had deteriorated along with the neighborhood.

Although it stood four blocks from my high school, I'd never ventured inside. It had an old-school feel, with a dozen boxing rings. There was also a big weight room, permanently smelling of sweat and without a high-tech machine to be found. Dudes didn't go there for the scene. They went to pump iron. Indeed, several huge body builders were lifting as I peered into the room. They reminded me of Ron's friends Kordel and Martel. I watched them for a while, fixated on how their muscles popped out as they pumped the iron, but I decided I'd better not stare too much.

Occupying the opposite side of the gym from the boxing rings was a surprisingly good basketball court. It was framed by massive, arched windows that rose at least three stories and didn't look like they'd been cleaned for decades. Muck caked the glass and filtered the light.

A solitary black dude was shooting baskets. He was damn good. Agile and quick, with elegant moves. I'd never seen him before although he looked like he was my age. He was slender, maybe an inch shorter than me, and wore an odd compression suit rather than basketball shorts. The tight material highlighted his buff body and an impressive package that I couldn't resist checking out. My mind kept drifting to what it would be like to release that package from the compression shorts and go down on it. Something about the wild night with Marcus and Ricky had left me hornier than hell.

There was a rack of basketballs next to the court and I was dressed as usual in basketball shorts and sneakers, so after watching for a few minutes I grabbed a ball, figuring I might as well shoot a few balls myself at the other basket as I was killing time.

Sometimes I'm in a zone when I'm shooting and this was one of those times. I hit four or five three pointers in a row before missing, then hit like seven more in a row before I clanked one off the rim. I retrieved the miss and dunked it, but when I turned around, I was confronted by the black dude.

His jaws were clenched and he glared at me. "What's the password, white boy?"

Why the fuck did I need a password? I frowned, wondering what he was trying to pull. I mean, even if the court was reserved, there wasn't any harm in using it until whoever reserved it showed up.

"I said, what's the password, white boy! You can't touch these basketballs or use this court unless you know the password."

I have no idea what prompted me to say what I said next. Something between inspiration and insanity, or maybe both. Okay, I have some idea why I said it. Like I said, I was super horny and I'd been thinking about what the dude's manhood might look like and what it would be like to give him head, but still, my comment was out of the blue. I didn't know him at all. Fixing my eyes on him, I said, "I'll suck your cock."

The kid blinked a couple of times in disbelief and frowned. His jaw fell open. "Say what??"

"I'll suck your cock."

He exhaled and a small smile broke on his face. "That... is... the password. Yes! Yes!! That is the password." His smile turned into a challenging grin and he nodded to a hallway leading from the gym. "Now. Down there." He dropped his basketball and headed toward the hallway.

My heart thumping, I followed him. He glanced behind a couple of times to make sure I was coming and detoured into a small men's room. He motioned me into a stall and I sat down as he locked the door. He pulled down his compression shorts to reveal a hooded black snake that was damn nice and hugely happy to be released from its tight prison. It began rising to the occasion, powering into what promised to be an impressive erection.

"You said you'd suck me, white boy. What's the saying? `Put your money where your mouth is?' In your case you need to put it in your mouth. Go for it."

I was becoming a specialist in restroom blow jobs. I'd done D'Marcus in the john at school for months and blown Willy and Lee there too, not to mention sucking off a trio of dudes in restaurant men's rooms – Randol, Ricky and the dude who paid me. Different location, different cock, same drill. I eagerly began to lick the dude's sweaty shaft and big eggs. I liked tasting jock sweat on a big cock, and the stud standing over me had both.

He must have been horny because his dick was rock hard in like a minute. I took the head into my mouth and slid my tongue inside his foreskin, using it to circle his dick head. I tongued the head and stroked his rod with one hand, feeling his smooth ball sac with the other.

I began sliding my throat up and down on his pole, taking more and more of it into my mouth. The fucker had a huge slab of fuck meat and I had to work to get it down. Eventually I succeeded, swallowing him to the root.

"Oh fuck!" he said excitedly, "suck that cock! Oh fuck!" He began thrusting his hips forward but didn't face fuck me like most dudes did when they got their dicks down my throat. His cock slid in and out of my mouth, and I used both hands to pressure his rod when I pulled off it. Fuck. I needed both hands. He was at least 9". With his long foreskin, I could jack him and suck him at the same time.

"Suck that cock! Suck it!"

I worked his tool, sensing that the stud was close even though I'd only been sucking on his dick for like three or four minutes. Sure enough, he panted, "I'm gonna cum!" Damn. Either the dude ejaculated prematurely or he was super horny. I squeezed my hands and mouth around his tool, ready for his load.

His announcement turned out to be an early warning, as it took another minute or two before he blew. And blow he did. He had a fucking cum cannon between his legs and it fired on all cylinders. Spurts of thick jizz rocketed into my mouth with enough force to practically bruise it. His spunk filled my mouth several times. It was so thick I practically chewed it. I gulped and swallowed as fast as I could but barely kept up with the cumworks.

He stopped sphlooging and I continued to nurse his manhood. He looked down on me with a mixture of surprise and elation.

"You swallowed!"

Hell yes I swallowed. I'd been swallowing since Willy inaugurated my throat in Sheila's kitchen and I loved it when a dude's hot cum shot into my mouth. I pulled off his cock and replied, "I thought the full password was, `I'll suck your cock and swallow your jizz.' Did I have it wrong?" I squeezed the last drop of cum from his piss slit and licked it with my tongue, continuing to stare at the stud.

He didn't miss a beat. "Absolutely nothing wrong. Totally, completely, right. That is the full password."

I continued to slowly work the dude's foreskin up and down his softening shaft. He moaned, "Fuck, did I ever need that!"

I licked my lips and replied, "Me, too."

"Hard to find someone who can deepthroat my cock, but you took it all in your mouth! What's your name, white boy?"

"Collins. You?"

"Zach. I've never seen you in the gym before."

I shrugged, standing up from the toilet seat. "I've never been here until today." Not bad for my first venture inside the gym. Inside for less than 20 minutes and I already had a tasty snack of fresh nut. I had to adjust my jock strap to accommodate my boner. It was a good thing my basketball shorts were baggy because if I'd been wearing something like Zach's tight shorts, my erection would have been totally obvious.

"Hope this isn't the last time you show up."

I chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe not."

I followed Zach back toward the basketball court, but before we got there, he stopped and grabbed my arm. He gave me the same challenging look that he'd given me when he more-or-less dared me to follow him to the restroom. "You take it in the ass too, white boy?"

I returned his look with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Zach frowned, considering my answer for a few seconds and rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. My coy answer didn't fool him. I mean, a dude whose first words are, `I'll suck your cock' probably takes it in the ass. A dude who swallows probably takes it in the ass. A dude who doesn't deny it when asked probably takes it in the ass.

He smiled big. "You take a black cock before?"

"Maybe." His big grin continued. He was on to me. I'd said, "Maybe," but he'd heard, "Hell yes."

"You take a BIG black cock before? Take it so far up your ass that you can taste it?"

I licked my lips, looking Zach in the eyes but saying nothing. I didn't have to. He met my gaze while groping his package.

"I'm reading something in those blue eyes, Collins. It says you've gone black and ain't going back. It says you can't get enough big black cock inside your bubble butt."

"Maybe." Once again, he heard, "Hell yes."

"What about right now? Would you spread those long legs and let me slide my bone in your butt?"

"Maybe. You saying you can get it up again?" From the swelling inside Zach's compression shorts, it was pretty damn clear what the answer to that question was.

"Hell, yeah."

He was excited and had a gleam in his eye. He was fucking hot and had a cock to die for, but I couldn't resist playing with him. I frowned, shaking my head. "I dunno." His crestfallen look was priceless.

"So, here's the thing. I'm picky about who I bend over for. I mean, I don't let just any bro bang my butt." Totally untrue, since I'd yet to say no, but it sounded good. Pausing for dramatic effect, I added, "It would have to be for a stud who'd fuck my brains out."

Zach took my comment as a challenge. He clenched his jaws and, instead of returning to the basketball court, turned me around and guided me back down the hallway. We passed the john and entered an unmarked door, which turned out to be the towel room. Stacks of threadbare white towels filled shelves on all sides of the tiny room. A table sat in the middle of the room.

Zach bent me over the table and pulled my shorts down to my ankles in one quick move. His hands spread my ass crack and he whistled. "Damn, boy. You gotta helluva nice bubble butt. Black boys have asses like this, not white boys. You have no idea how much I'm gonna enjoy getting the bone inside this fine ass. And yeah, I'm gonna fuck your brains out." He spit into my hole several times, worked his saliva into me, and probed my crack with the head of his cock. Despite having just juiced my mouth, his prick was rock hard again.

He pressed into my crack and, with some work, breached my sphincter. We both exhaled. "Damn boy, this is one helluva tight ass. You sure you been bred before, motherfucker?" Yeah, like seven times the night before, followed by an extended bout with Jason after basketball practice earlier. I'd driven him home and taken back-to-back-to-back loads. My hole was a little sore, but I'd walk over a bed of hot coals to get Zach's beautiful rod in my asscunt.

"Yeah. Ram it in me and ride that ass!"

Too late, I worried that the stud might take me at my word and slam into my defenseless hole. But he went slowly, sinking another couple of inches into me. His hard shaft felt incredible. I really was a slut. Three loads from Jason and I was still horny for dick. Black dick. Big dick. "Fuck that ass! Fuck it!"

"Damn white boy. You're one horny bitch. With an ass like this, I'd think you'd be getting as much cock as you can handle." That hadn't happened yet. Not that I wasn't getting plenty of cock, but I was always ready for more. I let out a happy moan as Zach forced his pole the last couple of inches into me. After being opened by Jason, his manhood didn't hurt, but my ass felt incredibly full. For a moment he stayed still, letting me relax fully. His kinky pubes were crushed against my bare buns and I was about to get boned by my second big black cock of the day.

The moment morphed into a minute and then a long minute. Still Zach didn't move. It was like he was in the starting gates, gathering strength for a stretch run. The anticipation was adding to the excitement I felt. My dick was throbbing and leaking pre-cum.

Taking a deep breath, Zach growled, "And now you're gonna get your brains fucked out, white boy." He pulled out most of the way and slammed back inside me. I let out a high-pitched moan. The starting gate was open and the fuck run was on.

Zach seemed to relish grinding his buttbuster inside my guts. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and growled, "Arch that back. Let me all the way inside you." He didn't wait for me, pressing one hand into the small of my back while pulling my head back until I felt his breath on my ear and his cock go even deeper inside me. "That's right. My big black cock is all the way in. It's filling your fuck chute, dude. Taking my dick is what your boi pussy was made for."

He pulled out again and began a frenzied fuck of my ravaged asshole. I whimpered and moaned while he panted and growled. Jason left my ass sloppy and juiced, and I didn't know if Zach realized he was plowing a cum-filled asscunt, but it sure as hell felt great.

"Like that boy? Like my cock inside you?"

"Yeah."

"Say it!"

"I fucking love it! Fuck that ass and fill it with your nut!"

Zach responded with a growl and a deep plunge into my hole. His dick filled me completely. I would be hard pressed to tell whether Jason or Zach was bigger. He battered my hole, and the sounds of fucking filled the towel room.

I thought it might take Zach a long time to climax since he'd just flooded my mouth with an enormous nut, but he didn't pummel my ass for long before grunting, "Cumming in your ass. Cumming now!" He powered his way balls deep inside me and shot, dumping yet another load into my hole. When his cock stopped spurting, he collapsed on my back. It felt incredible to be underneath the stud and filled with his big snake.

I would have happily signed up for seconds, thirds and however many loads of jizz the stud wanted to plant in my hole, but he pulled out, and wiped his cock on a towel before I had a chance to offer to clean it with my mouth. "That... was awesome."

"Glad you liked it."

"No, I mean it. That was an awesome fuck. I wish I could do it all night long."

"Me too. You know how to use that big buttbuster."

Zach gave me a big smile, slapping my ass. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

"But I will, right?"

He was happy. "Damn right."

He stuffed his semi-hard fuck stick back into his compression outfit. The bulge was mouthwatering. We headed back to the gym to play some ball. It might have been the only time in my life that I was disappointed to be on the basketball court.

We played one-on-one. Zach was the real deal. I hadn't faced a better guard. I was fast on my feet and had quick moves, but he was lightning quick. The only thing I had over him was accuracy on three pointers, although he might have been having an off-day shooting. It was fun playing with him.

I was trying to guard him as he drove to the basket when Zach stopped and said, "Hey, Coach!" I turned to see Morgan. I recognized him immediately. Granted he looked older than the flood of photos on the internet, some of which dated back to his high school days, but he was as handsome as his brother Marcus and in as good shape. The only thing that made the picture less than perfect was the cane he used.

I had no idea how long he'd been watching us. Zach walked over and I followed. "Hey, coach, this is Collins. He's got ball. Maybe he could take Ricardo's place."

"Maybe," Morgan replied.

"Coach, I'm serious. Dude is what we need."

Morgan gave Zach a suspicious look but was noncommittal. He introduced himself and I fumbled over a response, trying to say something about how much of an honor it was to meet him but mangling it enough so that it came out all wrong.

The gym quickly filled as eight tall dudes trooped in. All were black but their skin ranged from tan to obsidian. They were in shape and all but two were slender. The extra weight on the two guys who weren't so slender was mostly muscle. Three dudes had elaborate tattoos and the hairstyles ranged from long dreadlocks to buzz cuts. They were surprisingly clean cut with no facial hair and looked like a basketball team out of central casting.

Zach was the shortest of the bunch and he was probably 6'4". One gangly kid had to be over 7'. Each was dressed in the same compression suit that Zach wore. They greeted me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. One stud asked, "Who's the white boy?"

"Collins," Zach replied jauntily. "He's a baller!" He leaned next to me and whispered, "And I'm balling you again!" He gave me a devilish smile and his hand grazed my butt. I was totally fine with his suggestion. I was more than ready to throw my legs into the air and let the stud ram his butt buster inside me a second time.

"Okay, listen up," Morgan said. "I have to talk to Collins, but while I'm gone I want three-on-three. Play to 21. Winners hold the court until they lose. Team that isn't playing calls fouls." He sorted the nine dudes into three teams and then nodded at me to follow him.

He had a tiny office behind the weight room populated by a metal desk that looked like it had been rescued from the military after World War II. We sat down and he said, "Let me tell what we're doing here.

"I left coaching eighteen months ago. I was frustrated that basketball players got more talented every year but relied too much on their physical skills. Basketball is half physical and half mental. The mental side gets worse every year. It's lack of discipline and lack of control. What I teach my players is to focus on their own bodies and concentrate on exactly what they should be doing at each moment. Three-point shooting, for example. I want my kids to be able to drain a three while their mind is someplace else because their muscles remember exactly how high to jump, when to release the ball and what trajectory it should be on. I want it to be mindless. I want my kids to be as automatic on threes as the top players are on free throws.

"After I quit coaching, I worked on a new training program for a year and decided to run this camp to test it. I selected ten high school seniors to participate. All poor. All with awesome physical gifts. All with the potential to be impact Division 1 players, but none on the recruiting screens of Division 1 coaches.

"The program will last a full twelve months. Started in September and we'll finish in August. No breaks. Make no mistake. It's a basketball boot camp. It's brutal. It's basketball 100% of the time. We spend hours on the court and hours studying basketball. School isn't ignored but compressed. Too much time in high school is a waste. I have tutors for the boys and they'll each graduate with top grades. But rather than six or seven hours in class plus an extra hour or two on homework, we spend three or four hours a day on school, but we make every minute count.

"I house the group at my place, which is a mile away. It's austere. Big room with five bunk beds and a communal restroom and shower. Nutrition is tightly controlled. None of my boys have seen a fast food hamburger and fries or a slice of pizza since they joined the program. Four to six light meals a day, each designed with maximum nutrition and health in mind. Not the tastiest stuff in the world. Like I said, it's a boot camp.

"I studied circadian rhythms and sleep patterns enough to conclude the optimal sleep time for high school boys is actually six hours at night with a two-hour nap during the day. We have the gym here after the place closes at 9:00 pm, so we practice from then until 1:30 am. It's 2:00 am by the time the boys are in bed, and they're up at 8:00 am, back in bed from 2:00 pm until 4:00 pm.

"The compression suits you saw are my design. They're worn 24 hours a day. The material is designed to work and restore your muscles whether you're on the court or sleeping." He stopped for a second and added, almost to himself, "The design can be improved. I have a few tweaks in mind, but mostly I need to beef up the damn jock pouch. Some of these boys have more equipment than the design envisioned." I wondered if he was talking about Zach, but the thought that a couple of the other dudes might be hung too made my dick stir.

"We lost a player last week. You heard Zach mention Ricardo. Kid couldn't handle the pressure and the intensity. Not disciplined enough. I'm disappointed, although frankly the fact that nine of the ten young men who started the program in September are still here after more than three months is a surprise. But I need a replacement. Three-on-three or four-on-four ball is fine as a break, but basketball is five-on-five and I need a tenth man.

"That's where you come in. I've gotten positive reports on your skills from your coach as well as my brother, who knows basketball despite being a football player. And Zach of course, although he might not have been giving me a completely objective evaluation of your basketball talents."

He looked at me and asked bluntly, "You suck him off?"

My eyes went wide and I almost swallowed my tongue. "Um, yes, sir."

"Good. He hit you up or did you initiate it?"

"Um, I sorta brought it up."

"You didn't waste any time. Would you do it again?"

"Yes, sir." Hell yeah I'd do it again, in a heartbeat.

"Would you take it in the ass? Would you let him fuck you?"

I already had. For whatever reason, Morgan read it in my face, probably because I blushed when he asked the question. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "You boys didn't waste any time, did you?"

"Um, no sir."

"Well, that answers a few questions. How about the rest of the team? Would you suck their dicks? Let them fuck your ass?"

That thought had already crossed my mind too. Okay, I was a slut. I felt my face flush again as I answered, "Yes, sir."

Morgan nodded and said, "That brings me to the other reason you're here. For the record, in addition to your basketball skills, I've gotten some rather glowing reviews of your appetite and aptitude for sex. Buddy of mine named Ron, who I've done a lot of physical therapy with, and my brother, who isn't into sex with dudes but said you delivered one of the best blow jobs he'd ever gotten. He's had plenty of offers, but you're the first dude who's ever touched his cock. I'm counting Zach as one of your fans too, because playing basketball with you wouldn't have been enough to put that big smile on his face and make him so eager for you to join us."

He sighed. "One of the things I didn't anticipate about putting 10 horny teenaged boys in close quarters was how quickly their hormones get out of control. No girls. No dates. No way to relieve the pressure on their balls other than jerking off and every one of those boys is tired of that, deadly tired, not to mention the fact that there's no privacy to do it anyway. Ron convinced me that I needed a gay boy in the program. Not only a gay boy but a promiscuous slut who'd service nine horny guys. Service them willingly, happily, and eagerly. Does that sound like anyone you know?"

I took a deep breath. "That's me."

"That's what I thought. You're sure about that?"

"Yes, sir."

"How about when the guys call you a cocksucker, a faggot, a ho?"

I shrugged. "All true. Won't bother me."

"What if one of the boys wants to rough you up a little?"

I chewed my lip and felt my face flush again. "I kinda get off on that."

"What if you're dead tired and all you want to do is sleep, but one of these dudes decides he owns your mouth and your ass and he's gonna use them whenever and however he wants?"

I wouldn't be interested in sleep if that happened. "Not a problem."

"What if a couple of dudes want some sugar at the same time? When they decide and not when you do. You up to that?"

"Yes."

"You're okay being on the receiving end of a gangbang? Maybe a gangbang with nine horny studs wanting to fuck your brains out?"

Been there, done that, would love to go back. "Yes, sir, I'd be completely okay with that. I'd... kinda like it. Well, I'd totally like it."

Morgan clenched his jaws and asked, "What if you say no and a dude ignores you? What if he forces you? What if he rapes you?"

I took a deep breath. "Maybe people think I'm sick, but that would only excite me. I don't say no but getting forced is... a turn on. I could get a boner just thinking about that."

"Yeah, I can see."

Morgan's eyes drifted to my erection, stretching my basketball shorts. I adjusted it and said, "Um sorry, sir."

"Don't be sorry. You're not sick. You're honest, which I consider a great attribute. Truth and honesty are in short supply these days, starting at the top."

He paused before looking me in the eyes and asking, "So do you want into the program? I warn you, it's as tough as any boot camp the military runs and longer. The Marines is 12 weeks and you'd have three times that here. Austere living conditions, no junk food, no video games, no hanging with your friends. Physically exhausting. No time to yourself. Every moment of your day is tightly scripted. On top of that, I require complete obedience. Whatever I say goes. No lip, no complaints."

A small smile crossed Morgan's handsome face. "For every other kid in the program, I've warned them about no social life. No dates. No sex. For you, it will kinda be the opposite."

I loved two things. Basketball and sex. I'd be getting my fill of both. "I want in, sir."

Morgan nodded. "Very well. It will take a week for the school district to approve the switch. Your high school recognizes home schooling and that's what I'd be providing so you'll still graduate on time. If you want, you can stay on the school basketball team since my house is in the district. You'll find that your hardest day of practice at school is a walk in the park compared to what you'll endure here. Several of the boys are on local high school teams. Getting a taste of something different now and then helps them."

Rather than having to drop off my high school team, I'd get to continue to play. Continue to be around Jason. I wondered if he'd be jealous about me slutting around with my new teammates. I'd tell him, of course. And I'd continue to give him whenever he wanted. Whenever, wherever, and, however.

"We'll need your parents' consent. That a problem?"

"No, sir." My basketball-crazed parents would take about two seconds to agree when I told them I wanted to join a program run by Morgan Frederick. They were ready to move on with their lives anyway.

I called my mom and dad from Morgan's office and, surprisingly, got both of them the first time. They were excited for me. I suppose Mom was a little disappointed that I wouldn't be moving with her, but she understood the opportunity was too good to pass up. Dad had already accepted that I wouldn't be living with him in Illinois, and I sensed that he might have been a little happy that I wouldn't be living with Mom either. Go figure. I told Mom I'd bring home the paperwork for her to sign and told Dad I'd email it.

As I hung up, I asked Morgan, "Uh sir, what's in it for you? I mean, running the program and paying all the expenses? You could be coaching or in the broadcast booth."

Morgan smiled. "I enjoy teaching and like watching young players develop. I did my time managing prima donnas in the colleges and pros and was successful at it, but I've had all of that I want. And as for spouting platitudes over and over into a camera, I'll leave that to Charles Barkley. He's better at it than I am anyway.

"I want to remake basketball. If this program proves successful, the basketball world will beat a path to my doorstep. But to prove the program, the kids on that court have to raise eyebrows. I'm friends with enough Division 1 coaches so I already have commitments that anyone who finishes the program will have a full ride scholarship to college. That's a start, but only a start. Once those boys are in college they have to exceed expectations. The easiest way to do that is at a program that isn't a traditional top 20 powerhouse. Think Steph Curry at Davidson, Gordon Hayward at Butler, or, going back, Larry Bird at Indiana State." He gave me a long look and said, "Or going WAY back, Doug Collins at Illinois State. You're probably too young to know him, but you look like him. At least when he was in college."

"Yeah, I know. My parents were big fans of his `cuz they're from downstate Illinois. I'm named after him."

Morgan smiled and nodded. "I hadn't made the connection. My point is, the boys on the team will pay me back by succeeding. That's what I want out of it."

I was stuck on the mention of a full ride basketball scholarship. "A full ride?" I repeated. I hadn't seriously considered college. My grades were good enough, but I knew my parents couldn't afford to help me at all, and the divorce had only made that situation worse. I might be able to scrape by going in state and working full time, but that would rule out basketball. I'd been assuming my basketball career would end in another four months after the high school season was over and I'd try to pick up a job. Probably minimum wage. Playing college ball was a dream.

"Yes, full ride. But don't get ahead of yourself. You'll work your tail off before you even sniff college. Ricardo couldn't cut it here. You have to first prove that you can."

"I understand. I'll prove it. And... thank you sir."

"Like I said. You can thank me by turning heads in college and having people ask, `Where did he come from?' Plenty of hard work and a long way to go first."

"I'm ready."

"Okay. Let's introduce you to the team. Christmas is coming early for nine dudes."

I followed Morgan back to the basketball court. He waited until the three-on-three game was over and summoned the team. "Okay, listen up. Collins here is gonna replace Ricardo on the team. He's gonna have some work to do to catch up with what you've learned over the last three months, so cut him some slack for the first couple of weeks." Zach had a big, shit-eating grin on his face but the other eight dudes were stone-faced, staring at me suspiciously.

"Let's get one thing out and on the table. Collins is gay. He likes getting it on with dudes. Nobody here is gonna hassle him about that, understand? Being gay is perfectly normal. Like being white is perfectly normal. Or being black. Or being left-handed."

I sensed reactions that ranged from antagonism to grudging acceptance to indifference. That changed when Morgan added, "As long as we're on the subject, if you're nice to him, he might help you out now and then."

If the dudes had been listening only halfway, Morgan suddenly had their fully attention. I got an array of stares that ranged from surprise to disbelief to lust. Morgan shook his head. "Yeah, you heard me right and you know exactly what I mean. But nobody forces him to do anything he doesn't want. Nobody. Anyone who crosses the line will have to answer to me, and you'll probably be out on your ass. Understand?" Morgan and I had already established that I'd be a willing participant in whatever the dudes wanted to do to me, so the issue of forcing me was off the table. But I appreciated Morgan's concern.

Zach piped up, "Dude gives good head. Damn good head. Awesome head. And he has a tight ass to die for. TO DIE FOR."

One of the players turned to him and growled, "How you know that?"

Zach grinned big and said, "Early bird gets the worm." He grabbed his crotch to emphasize the point. Of course, technically I'd gotten the worm – his – although it was closer to a python. A python attached to a cum faucet.

"Fuck!" came the exasperated response from half the team. Their eyes turned hungry as they gazed at me. It was like a pack of wolves surrounding a fat rabbit. My cock responded with an involuntary lurch.

Morgan ordered the players back on the court and pulled me aside. "Look. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what will go down when you join the team. But you're in charge, understand? If you want to get it on with one of the dudes – or all nine of them – fine. But if you don't want to, you tell them so. I'll back you up. You call the shots. You're running the show."

"I understand sir. It won't be a problem."

I wanted to stay and play ball, or maybe stay and get balled, but it was late and I had to get home. Plus, I desperately wanted to work my dick. I still had the lingering taste of Zach's thick babymakers to enjoy. Not only the ones he'd shot in my mouth, but the reservoir of them in my ass. In fact, I'd have a tasty nut combo of Jason and Zach to enjoy.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Above all, in this time, be safe!!

Feedback appreciated! Email me at ColtonAalto@gmail.com. I'm targeting the final chapter in Collins' wild ride in two weeks. I hope you enjoy the end of the tale.

My other Nifty stories can be found in the author index (listed as Colton) using this link: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#colton. You can also locate them by searching for "Colton Aalto" using the Nifty Archive Search button, or by following this link: https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=colton+aalto&sort=Relevance (I like this link better). I jump around in different Nifty categories, so you'll find a bit of everything. Enjoy!

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2020

Skyblue Template for Easy Text To HTML Converter