From: scoffinator69
Disclaimer: This story is complete and utter fantasy, and should in no way be believed to say anything definitive about the characters involved, their sexual orientation, or their personal desires. It is 100% about the author thinking that this scenario would be fucking HOT. You should also realize by now that in a fantasy world, everyone is always safe from disease and disfigurement. We do not live in a fantasy world, so do with that knowledge what you will.
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This story is copyrighted by the author as of 04-29-2018
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Leighton's Draft Stock (pt 1 of 2):
Prologue
Leighton Vander Esch could not make any sense of his feelings at the moment. Of course he knew what they were, and what they represented, but in his mind that knowledge was only a part of the equation. What he couldn't understand here and now was why he wasn't able to push those feelings back to a safer place. Why none of the old tricks for tamping those kinds of thoughts down were working for him tonight.
As confusing to him at the moment was the knowledge that the only other time those tricks he used had failed him in the past was at the combine. And then, as now, they had only failed him in the presence of this one particular person. Worse still, being completely honest with himself, he knew that all of those dark feelings were way stronger at this minute than they had been all those weeks ago. As his eyes danced up and down the body before him, as he struggled to hold the other young man's gaze, the knot in his stomach grew and tightened as he came to accept, and maybe even embrace, that he didn't actually want to push these feelings away.
Maybe that he was even glad that none of those old tricks were working.
He had felt the first sharp pang the moment he had entered the room where they were all to wait, hoping to hear their name called as a "First Round Draft Pick", he had even acknowledged that the sharpness had increased by the time they had shaken hands and greeted each other for the first time since the combine. The dull pulse he felt in his nuts only seemed to grow in intensity as he turned over and over in his mind the question of why seeing him in a sharp suit tonight seemed so much more energizing than having seen him in compression gear that left almost nothing to the imagination had been back at the combine.
In the crush of activity from that point, through hearing his name called by the Cowboys as 19th overall, til now, with everything pretty much done for the night, he had almost been able to make himself believe that he had successfully sunken those feelings. Standing here now, sharing congratulations with each other, he knew better. He also knew that he was painfully hard in his suit pants. Knew that he was focusing way too much on the subtle shifts of muscle under the other man's suit whenever he moved. That his shifting, darting eyes were going to give the game away if he wasn't careful.
Part 1
Roquan Smith had been aware of Leighton's gaze all night and had recognized it as being more intense than it had been the last time the two had been together back in Indianapolis. He was also pretty sure that the other newly drafted stud was completely clueless about how to go after what he wanted. Hell, the Boise State stud was probably aware of only a fraction of the possibilities available to them tonight. The way his fellow linebacker's eyes had been furtively raking over his entire body had told the former Georgia Bulldog that Vander Esch was interested, but he knew that he was going to have to play it gently at first so he didn't scare the other 21 year old off and leave himself with a case of blue balls. Interested was after all one thing, willing and able was something else entirely. That was the sign he was looking for. Hoping for.
When that signal came, it was all Roquan could do to keep from jumping Leighton right there in a room still mostly full of fellow draftees. It was in the slight, but noticeable vibration in the 6'4" stud's arm as he slid his own hand up and lightly squeezed the other man's bicep in punctuation of a joke. It was in the way the slightly taller man's gaze shifted to take in the playful shifting of his sturdy pectorals when his jacket had spread slightly with his movement.
Most of all though, it was in the lightning quick flickering of Leighton's tongue along his lower lip as he failed to pull his eyes away from the Bulldog's muscular chest. The punctuation of the moment came when the future Cowboy jerked his gaze back up to meet the future Bear's. The worry Roquan saw there for the briefest second shifted into something deeper, and probably more frightening to Leighton, as they each recognized the same need in the other. The 6'1" black stud leaned in conspiratorially, and half whispered, half breathed into the taller man's ear.
"I gotta take a piss, man. You?"
The former Bulldog was not too worried that Leighton didn't immediately follow him, the slight nod of agreement, and the slight shock of understanding in the former Bronco's gaze told Roquan that he would not reach the bathroom alone. Still, he did walk slowly to make sure. He was glad that there were several family/handicap type toilets in the area that had been closed off for the player's as the added privacy would be very welcome. He stopped to hold the door, though, barely glancing back at the man following him to be sure the Idahoan got the message. Once they were both inside he slipped the lock as quietly as possible, thinking the former Bronco might still be skittish about it all.
For his part, Leighton wasn't exactly skittish, but he was unsure quite what he should do as he watched his fellow 1st rounder step up to one side of the toilet and lower his fly. He didn't really need to piss, but apparently Roquan did. He knew that if he stepped up to the other side of the toilet and pulled his own cock out that it's painful hardness would give the game up immediately. He was wondering if that was what his fellow linebacker wanted when his gaze was drawn toward the movement of Roquan's hand as it brought his own cock out into the open.
Eight and a half hard, black inches of linebacker cock was exposed to Leighton's eyes. Even from a few feet away, the Idahoan could tell that Roquan matched him in length, but that the former Bulldog clearly had him beat in girth. His eyes had snapped wider than he thought possible. His breath became rapid and shallow, sidling along the edge of hyperventilation. His mouth became freakishly dry. In the space of a heartbeat, he thought he might cum just from the sight of the powerful jock shaft exposed to his hungry gaze. He registered the movement only when his salivary glands started working again, and his jaw dropped, allowing his lips to part.
"You ain't never done anything before?" It was purely a question, not a taunt, "Like, with anyone?"
Leighton watched his questioner's hand hang in the air, millimeters from the aching mound in his own suit pants.
"Only with girls, and too few times."
The blush that came over him was embarrassingly hot, and surely so complete that it colored his toes.
"You wanna go now, and I ain't gonna judge. We won't have to say another word about it."
The slight nudge of Leighton's knuckles along the underside of his shaft came as a massive relief to Roquan.
"No. I...it's..."
The 'please' was spoken only subconsciously as he traced his fingertips along the length of the shaft, while his thumb slid over the tip of the head, still mostly covered by foreskin. The gasp at feeling his fellow linebacker's hand slipping over his pulsing, mounded suit pants punctuated his desire.
The world seemed to stop as Roquan Smith gripped the tab of his zipper between thumb and forefinger and opened Leighton Vander Esch's fly. The two kept hold of each other's gaze as the Georgian slipped one big hand into the Idahoan's pants, cupping the boxer briefs covered erection, gripping it through the fabric, massaging it gently. Roquan brought his other hand in to play, deftly unbuttoning Leighton's suit pants and giving the a helpful nudge downward. The sight of the 6'4" jock standing before him, jacket still on, tie barely loosened, shirttails and t-shirt exposed, pants hanging loosely at his knees and straining boxer briefs under his massaging grip should not have been as fucking sexy as it was. The pulsing in his own cock, though, under the still tentative hand of the future Cowboy sent a shiver through the rest of his body as he drank in the sight.
The Georgian risked a quick breaking of contact as he stripped his own jacket off and let his own pants drop, pleased that Leighton's gaze raked over every inch of his body as he did so. By the time Roquan pushed the Idahoan's jacket off his shoulders his fellow draftee was undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as rapidly as his still trembling fingers would allow. The two men held each others gaze even as the former Bulldog slipped his hand between the stretched fabric of Leighton's shorts and the smooth skin of his lower abdomen, sliding along the oozing cock as he did so.
Roquan continued to hold his buddy's gaze even as he slowly sank to his knees before the slightly taller linebacker. He smiled at Leighton's gasp as he lowered the shorts, pulling the front of them down to hook under the future Cowboy's big ball sack. The smile widened as the gasp sharpened as he made first contact of tongue to nuts, swiping over the surface of the fuzzy scrotum with a practiced assurance. By the time Roquan's tongue had snaked it's way upward along the length of the shaft, the gasp morphed over into a deep and guttural moan that continued to stretch on and on at the feeling of the tongue swiping overt he taut skin covering the crown of jock cock.
The Idahoan's knees gave way as the Georgian's lips closed over the leaking head of his cock, and continued sliding downward along the length. The feeling of Roquan's strong, rough hands gripping his thighs tighter to hold him up seemed to sear his flesh as he watched the full lips sink all the away down, burying themselves in his pubes, tongue dancing around the very base of his cock. The feel of his cocksucker's breath being exhaled across his skin had the curious effect of cooling the surface while ratcheting up the heat inside his gut. The groan that escaped him as Roquan held there, swallowing around and massaging along the fully buried shaft, was surely loud enough to be heard back in Boise. The pressure of the lips and tongue sliding back a long the length of him threatened to bring every drop of his cum with them as Roquan pulled back and off the eight and a half inch jock muscle.
"You never got head before?"
"Not from anyone who knew what the fuck they were doing!"
The sound of his own voice seemed wholly alien to him so thick was it with lust and greed. The chuckling laughter of his cock sucking buddy added another level of base pleasure to the already shattering feelings rocketing through him. Somehow the former Bulldog continued chuckling around the rock hard shaft, even as he sucked and licked and swallowed around it at the same time. The heat of the sucking, clutching throat along the full length of his cock radiated outward through Leighton's entire body, feeding his lust. Ratcheting up his already voracious greed. Without fully realizing it, his hips began to move, thrusting into and against the cock sucking lips. His hands dug, palms splayed wide, into the skull of Roquan Smith as Leighton Vander Esch lost himself in the thrill of dizziness brought on by the nearly miraculous blow job.
Roquan let Leighton take the lead for now, shifting his grip slightly on his buddy's powerful thighs, spreading his own palms over the powerfully clutching glutes, spreading them slightly, feeling them contract and release under his grip as the future Cowboy fucked his face. The future Bear snaked his index fingers closer to his most anticipated prize, tracing along and around the jock hole that he had wanted since back in Indy at the combine.
The quivering irregularities rising up in Leighton's thrusts told Roquan two things. One, his fellow linebacker was not going to last much longer. Two, the former Bronco was heavily into the fingers slipping into and around his tight jock hole. The former bulldog was sure also that Leighton was going to lover being rimmed. The hardness of the cock in his mouth, the copiously oozing pre-cum baptizing his tongue was also ratcheting up his own desires. Roquan knew that his own pre was oozing out and dripping down onto the floor between his splayed knees. The insistent heat of jock shank deep in his throat, splitting his lips wide, flattening his tongue, was something Roquan had loved since he first tried it with a buddy back in high school. The fact that this cock, this fellow jock stud, was only just now getting his first taste of mansex only served to add further heat to a moment that already felt like living in a blast furnace.
He felt the tell tale swell along his searching, flicking tongue. Felt the powerful pulsing first shot of Leighton's cum firing deep into his throat before he could pull back for the taste of it. He only got a half taste of the second shot, but was able to savor the third for a second or two before swallowing. The next three shots he held on his tongue, letting them mingle with his simmering saliva as Leighton quivered and shook, nearly completely hunched over him. At the first sign of slackening in his face fucker's grip, Roquan pulled back and away, fingers still teasing at Leighton's hole before he started shifting his fellow linebacker's position. Still savoring the salty tang of cum on his tongue. More than pleased that Leighton's cock was still hard and pulsing.
Part 2
Leighton did not fight against the movement, letting himself be turned, letting his leg be lifted to free it from his suit pants. He even reached back himself to force his shorts down from around his knees so they dropped at his ankles. One foot came free of them as his knee was bent and raised to rest on the granite counter top of the sink. It was only by chance really that he happened to be looking at himself in the mirror as Roquan spread his cheeks wide and slid his tongue into his ass along side the still teasing fingers. He would swear that he watched his own eyes roll back in his head, his own head snap dangerously back on his neck, and that he saw the moan that slipped from his lips as it traveled up his throat when Roquan's tongue drove forcefully between his winking jock lips the first time.
The coppery, salty taste of Leighton's musk and sweat rained over Roquan's digging tongue. The former Bulldog's lustful heat, already nearly feverish, continued to rise as the former Bronco pushed back against the rimming, desperately trying to shift his precarious position to allow for better and deeper access to his jock hole. The future Bear pulled one powerful glute wider as his other hand snaked up under the damp t-shirt to rest on the small of the future Cowboy's back. The black stud drove his tongue sharply, dart like, as deep as possible into the gleefully offered white stud ass, even as that white stud ass was pushed back against his lips, chin and tongue. Leighton was now simply wheezing out nearly incomprehensible pleas for more and deeper and don't fucking stop!
Roquan would have loved to have kept rimming this amazing jock ass for hours longer, but knew that the heat of this sudden and much needed coupling would not support that desire. His cock was harder and slicker with pre-cum at the moment than he could ever remember. The jock lips were clutching at his driving tongue with an intensity that could easily have snapped that digging muscle clean off had the been sharp and cutting instead of moist and milking. He kept as much contact as possible with Leighton's body as he rose up behind his fellow linebacker. Meeting his fuck buddy's gaze in the mirror as he nipped and nibbled his way up along the still shirted back of the white stud. He recognized the abject, base need in Leighton's eyes as his leaking cock head first kissed up against the still quivering jock hole.
Leighton Vander Esch gave a slight but sure and steady nod to Roquan Smith via the mirror, submitting himself fully to the former Bulldog. Bending his knee instinctively, the former Bronco felt more of the heat and hardness and length of the Georgian's cock press against his jock crack, felt the man behind and over him shift slightly lower to reconnect them. The firm, pliant heat of the black stud's cock head teasing at the firm, pliant heat of the white jock's hole. The pain that came with the stretch of entry was overridden by the full need of feeling centered deep inside Leighton's body. The long, steady impalement at long last released something deep inside the Idahoan as the aching itch that had trailed him for the full 21 years of his life was finally scratched.
Eight and a half, thick, black, uncut inches of jock cock sank fully into the deepest and most desperate recesses of Leighton's jock hole, stretching him wide and filling him finally and fully. He ground himself back against Roquan's groin even as the jock fucker dug one hand up and under the t-shirt, bunching the fabric up as he gripped tight to the Idahoan's side, tantalizingly close to one diamond hard nipple. The Georgian shifted his other arm around under his shoulder, pressing that hand, palm splayed, hard atop the sweat dampened fabric at the base of his jock bottom's throat. Index finger and thumb spread almost menacingly at the base of his neck. Leighton Vander Esch had been claimed. Was fully and completely owned by Roquan Smith.
The stud former Bulldog hunched against the stud former Bronco, determined to break the stud before he seeded the no longer virgin jock snatch. Drawing another inch or so outward each time before grinding back into the whimpering jock bitch. Feeling the sucking breath of his fuck buddy, the rapidly beating heart under his palm separated by a thin layer of fabric and flesh and bone. For several long minutes Roquan fought against his need to pummel the jock ass so willingly offered to him, knowing that he needed to let Leighton fully comprehend what the former Bronco had so eagerly handed over to the former Bulldog.
The heat of the cock inside him drew Leighton further and further along the path of greedy hunger. The feel of his own hard cock trapped between the deceptive coolness of the granite under it and the searing heat of his clenching abs above it drove the 6'4" stud to grind back as sharply as possible against the sharp pubic bone of the 6'1" stud slipping fully in and out of his clenching milking hole. The aching, pulsing hardness of his trapped jock shaft was only salved by the oozing pre-cum that was pulsing out him, it seemed, with every heartbeat. The bruising grip of his bull top digging deeper into his side, pressing tighter and hotter against his ribcage and sternum was followed by quickening, grunting thrusts deep into his bowels.
The two newly drafted jock studs drove hard against each other, the future Cowboy's slamming his muscular ass back, impaling himself fully on the future Bear's jock joint even as that jock joint was driven hard and deep into his aching ass. The black stud's hips pile driving against the white stud's wide spread glutes as the two linebackers slipped eagerly into the rut that they had been destined for since back at the combine.
Leighton Vander Esch wanted desperately to be able to register everything happening to him completely, but the dizzying heat of the moment made that impossible. The savage grunts of his jock fucking top punctuating each deep thrust of the cock stretching him wide was overtaken by his own pleas, half heard, whimpering of 'fuckmefuckmefuckme' in an almost unrecognizable voice. The whimpering flowing over into the knowledge that he was absolutely and willingly debasing himself with each thrusting grind back against the god like stud tearing brilliantly through his aching, gaping jock cunt. The digging of the fingers and hands deeper into his own flesh and bone as Roquan dug in for additional leverage through each powerful drive. The crunching, thrilling blows to his prostate as the massive black cock inside him steam rolled right over it with ever increasing speed and intensity. The constantly decreasing friction against his own trapped cock as pulse after oozing pulse of pre-cum lubed the granite under it and the flesh over. The increasing knot in his nuts reminding him that another massive load was going to be rocketing out of his aching ball sack very soon.
And still he ground back against Roquan's hard stud body.
Still willed himself open to accept the pile driving fuck of the black god.
Still begged for more and harder bone rattling thrusts.
Begging now be be seeded. To be bred by the masterful beast tearing through every fiber of his being.
Using a strength that he should not have left, Leighton pushed back and up hard from the counter. Arching his back to press even tighter against the pounding trunk of his bull top, amazed to feel even more delirious pressure against his prostate as the cock inside him somehow dug deeper still. The whimpering pleas now having shifted without realizing.
"Breedmebreedmebreedme!" as his fuckers driving thrusts continued to increase in their power. Slack jawed, Leighton watched his load being fucked out of him for the first time, awed by the volume and strength of it as it hit the mirror and painted the granite of the counter top. Feeling the cock deep in his jock cunt swelling further, even as it continued thrusting and he continued shooting.
Roquan Smith roared as he blasted his Georgian load deep into Leighton's Idaho cunt. His teeth sank into the fabric of his bitch's shirt as he bit down over the gasping bottom's shoulder. The clutching, grasping jock hole milked seven massive blasts of cum from deep down in his Bulldog balls even as the former Bronco continued to pump out his own massive load over the counter in front of them.
The two stud's stayed clamped together long after the final oozing pulses of cum from either of them. Leighton Vander Esch was taken aback by the sight greeting him ion the mirror as it swam back into focus. Whimpering involuntarily as the man who had so perfectly taken his jock cherry and turned him into a needy jock cunt pulled away.
The Idahoan half watched as Roquan dug into his bag and brought out an unfamiliar pear shaped object and moved back toward him. The Georgian pressed back up against his back, tracing the thing along his crack.
"This will keep me from seeping out and staining your suit before you get back to the hotel."
The sharpness of the insertion was in exact opposition to the gentle kiss of the full lips against his neck just behind the ear.
As the two put themselves back together, trying for something that looked almost like normal, Leighton knew that what was opened to him now was something he was going to continue exploring, even if he didn't really have any idea how to do that. The future Cowboy was half surprised to realize his cock was still mostly hard as his knuckles brushed against it while he zipping his fly.