To anyone who liked the previous chapters, sorry for the huge delay, and thanks to those of you that nudged me to finish this one. Hopefully it's worth the wait!
Comments and suggestions are appreciated at pseudonym.in.my.pants@gmail.com
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Matt Spends the Night with Tom
Tom tucked his junk back into his shorts, then held out his slimy hand. I grabbed it, and he pulled me to my feet, with my dick still wagging in front of me. We both laughed a little at the absurdity of it.
"Suit yourself", he said, and spanked me. "Come on, I could use a shower after today. I bet you could too."
"Fine by me", I smiled. "But we'll need another one before bed."
"I like the way you think". He wiggled his eyebrows.
I followed Tom out of the garage and he snapped off the lights. Immediately, we were back in suburbia. I kind of missed the smell of grease, but there was a comfortable warmth in having a house to ourselves. I was also horny as fuck.
It was hard to tell from the macho way he carried himself, but as we climbed the stairs, there was a definite spring in Tom's step. I got the sense this was as much a treat for him as it was for me.
I turned on the shower and let the water heat up. The bathroom was a little cramped for two people, but we were long past the point of personal space.
While we waited, Tom made a small show out of stripping. First flexing his biceps in mock bodybuilder poses, then lifting the hem of his shirt to tease his abs, before finally pulling the whole thing over his head, revealing his meaty chest. He made a similar game of dropping his drawers, flashing his pubes, and stretching the waist over his plump ass, despite the fact I was still tasting his jizz from a few minutes earlier. His playfulness between loads reminded me that he was really a father, especially the cheeky smile. I couldn't look away.
We stepped into the stall together and I stood with my back to the spray. Tom stood facing me, close enough to wrap his arms around me.
The warm water rolled down my back and mist billowed around us. I closed my eyes and tried to capture the moment. I was alone with a man who wanted my body completely, and who I needed just as badly. We had all the time in the world to enjoy one another. The thought made my heart race in a way that actual sex rarely did.
Tom grabbed my shoulder and I opened my eyes again.
"Tired?", he asked.
"Nah, just making sure I remember this."
"Such a romantic", he laughed. "Let me get under the water."
We rotated, remaining face to face until his wide shoulders blocked nearly all the spray. Fuck I loved that about him, although it was a bit chilly.
"I needed this", he said, seemingly to himself. "I love Katie, but sometimes I just need some man time and a hot shower." He winked. "And to drop a few loads."
I took that as my cue, and snapped back into the scene. Without instruction, I took that last step towards him and sealed my lips around his left nipple. It was smooth and brown, capping his firm round pec.
Tom sighed over my head. I knew that, generally speaking, nipple play wasn't his thing, but he did appreciate it as foreplay. It was a good way to prime his pump.
I sucked the nub of flesh into my mouth and then released it, repeating a few times until it started to stiffen. Once it was hard, it lapped at it with my tongue to give some different stimulation. Then I moved on to the right side.
Tom kept his eyes closed and let me worship him, totally content to have me steer things at this point. He raised his arms and ran his hands backwards through his soaked dark hair.
"Fuck babe. You're gonna get me hard again."
"That might just be my secret plan."
I continued sucking his nips for a few minutes, alternating between kisses, licks, and general pec nuzzling. About half the enjoyment for me was running my tongue over that wall of padded muscle, and inhaling the clean manly smell of his skin.
In time, I felt a gentle pressure from Tom's hand on my stomach, pushing me towards the side wall of the shower stall. His fat cock was perking up again, even though he'd unloaded into me less than a half-hour before. My own dick had relaxed to about the same state. He backed me up until my shoulder-blades were pressed against the slick grey tile.
I continued nibbling at Tom's chest as the gap between us closed, until there was barely room to maneuver. I felt my legs spread, pried apart effortlessly by his strong thighs, and then his thick fingers grazed my exposed pucker. I shuddered at the mix of sensations, his warm weight on my chest, the way his wrist slipped against my cock-head, and the urgent massage of my backdoor.
"Fuuuuck, Tom", I moaned. The hiss of water nearly drowned out the low sound.
"Yeah baby. Open up for daddy."
I kept squirming, trapped against the wet tile. Tom's huge body pinned me there, leaving no escape from his exploration. I had no choice, but if I had, I'd have chosen to surrender. I never stopped lapping at his beefy pecs, eager to feel his brute strength closer to me, to show him how totally he deserved this.
Meanwhile, his fingers probed deeper and deeper at my back door. What started as massage had quickly moved inside as my ring relaxed, happy to give Tom whatever access he wanted. Of course, we both knew I could stretch to his challenge, but this was about playing the game, savoring the conquest.
One thick finger breached me, sliding in almost effortlessly from the wet heat of the shower. It twisted and rubbed against my walls, pulling exquisitely on my ass-lips, making room for a partner. I screwed my eyes shut and focused on the friction.
"You like that baby? You like spreading for your man? You gonna be a good boy for daddy, so he can fill you up all the way?"
A few seconds later, another finger slipped in next to the first, a bit harder this time from the strange shape and Tom's tough skin. I could feel a genuine stretch as he spread them, tugging outward on my sphincter in preparation for the behemoth to come. The slow tension was enthralling, under his total control.
"Yes daddy. Fuck yes", I moaned like a slut. "I need you inside me." My straining cock was at full mast.
Tom held me, sandwiched between his hulking frame and the warm tile, as his digits twisted into me. After a few thrusts in and out, to loosen me, he zeroed in on my prostate and began to press. Immediately, a glob of precum pulsed from my piss slit and was lost to slick space between our bodies. My ring clenched involuntarily.
He always had great aim when we fucked, but this was different. It wasn't the blunt assault of a battering ram, but a concentrated massage. Tom's skilful fingers dug directly into my love-nut, cornering it just as he had cornered me. It was intense, inescapable, throbbing.
The massage continued, firm pressure tracing up and down my gland, unwavering and undeniable. The tempo was relentless. The harder he squeezed, the more I writhed. Heat and pleasure, nearly too much pleasure, poured out from my fuck-bulb, and Tom knew exactly what he was doing to me.
For an agonizing minute, my skull thrashed from side to side, and my ass muscles spasmed around the intruder. Precum leaked from my swollen head, trickling endlessly down Tom's sticky abs. I didn't even notice how hard his own donkey dick had become.
"Fuck Tom!", I whined. "Fuck that's so good. Unh. Stop! Please stop. Unh! So fuckin' good!"
"That's it baby. Daddy loves when you beg. Such a hot fuckin' slut."
Against my protests, his milking pressed on, and I thought I might explode. I needed to piss, but nothing would come. I felt a build, but then it would fall. My legs shook, and Tom held me upright. I tried to move, and he pinned me like a ragdoll.
"Fuck me daddy!", I screamed into his taught chest.
Then suddenly, mercifully, the pressure stopped. Panting, heart racing, I opened my eyes. Tom looked down at me like a wolf, hunger in his grey leer. My hole was desperate, his restraint was gone, it was time for him to take his prize.
"Bed", he said, and didn't wait for a reply.
He withdrew his fingers, with a juicy splurt. I felt my sphincter gape in the moist air.
His grip transformed, and he heaved me up over his shoulder. It was a risky move on the slick floor, but both of us had our minds elsewhere. In a flash, the faucet was closed, and the stall door swung open. Steam swirled around us as Tom hauled me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, he and Katie's bedroom, to plant his seed.
He tossed me down onto the mattress and I instinctively rolled over onto my hands and knees. Before I could lower my head, I felt Tom's giant schlong drilling into my waiting fuck-tunnel.
"Oh shit baby." He hissed. "Daddy loves that hole so fuckin' much. Fits like a fuckin' glove."
"Ennnhhhh", I moaned, as his 7" lodged themselves balls deep inside me.
His thick cock pulled on my pucker as it impaled me, sending sparks of pain and pleasure up my spine. Our shower, and months of practice, had prepared me well. In one smooth stroke, the enormous rod was totally buried, lubed with his ample precum. Tom's groin mashed against my perky ass.
"Fuuuuck", I signed.
"Yeah baby. Daddy's home"
I relaxed my neck, and let my forehead loll against the sheets. My face and throat were flushed, hot and red from exertion.
We paused for a moment, and I felt Tom's heartbeat in my guts, then he began to rut. I felt him pull back, and it was as if he took my insides with him. The friction was intense on my throbbing ring, and a wave of emptiness followed behind it. Just as his ridge was about to slip past, he reversed course and piled back in, filling me to the brim once again.
Over and over he long doggy dicked me, sawing his entire length in and out of my helpless spunk-chute. The heat of skin-on-skin was fiery bliss. I pressed my face into the mattress and begged it to wash over me.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", I chanted in time with Tom's thrusting. Each verse ended with the clap of his churning balls against my smooth ass.
Tom himself didn't say anything, only able to grunt. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" An animal yell erupted each time he bottomed out in my fuck-hole.
As the minutes passed, the length of his strokes increased, until he began pulling out completely. All 7" massive inches ripped out of me, leaving my puffy ass-lips agape. Then his swollen helmet would spear back inside, smashing my ring with a sticky squelch. Each thrust felt like being opened up again. I relished giving him that tightness, squeezing his head through my slick entrance.
"Fuck. Yeah. Baby. Take. That. Cock." Tom's words were ecstasy and amazement. I could hear the surprise each time his girth disappeared, swallowed into cock heaven.
Up until now, it had been a purely selfish fuck on Tom's part. I was his to use, and he was pumping me to his deepest satisfaction, with no regard for my pleasure. In a twisted sense, that kind of service was the most erotic for me, to know my man was getting everything he wanted, without restraint. I got off on the sacrifice. I could never ask him to stop.
But I didn't have to ask. After a final shuddering withdrawal, the tempo shifted. Instead of diving back in, Tom used his grip on my hips to roll me over. I was on my back, knees at my ears, with his huge body standing over me.
He glistened with sweat, and his face was red. His expression was an intoxicating mixture of fatherly pride and animal hunger.
Taking my ankles over his shoulders, he lifted my pucker to waist height. Then leaning over, he ground back inside me, refilling my desperate cum-tunnel.
"Shiiit, Tom", I moaned as he entered. The new angle raked his angry schlong luxuriously over my prostate. My eyes fluttered at the welcome stretch.
"Such a pretty boy stuffed with daddy's cock", Tom cooed back. He leaned over further, pushing deeper in, until his face hung a foot above mine. A drop of sweat rolled down his nose and when he smiled, it broke free, splashing on my cheek.
Slower now, and more generously, he began to fuck again. I was as helpless as ever, folded in half beneath his heavy torso, but I could sense he intended to pleasure me as much as himself.
Every thrust of his huge member was firm yet deliberate. With trademark aim, he skimmed my spot over and over. Each inward push made me inhale involuntarily, and the return passes sent my hips quaking. Between shudders, I stared up at his rugged face, his determined gaze locked into my eyes.
"Enh, enh, enh", I whimpered between gasps.
Later, I'd recall how unusual and hot this was. Tom's favourite position, by far, was doggy, and when we fucked, he called the shots. I practically never got to see him enjoying my body, the unfiltered bliss, and power, and need that contorted his face.
Tom held a steady rhythm for what seemed like forever, never missing a beat, or my love-nut, with his fat shaft. It was almost like his fingering from earlier, but amplified by the scene. His weight, his smell, his eyes, his marriage bed, all of them conspired to push me to the breaking point.
Just as with Zak, that night at the gym, I felt a sensation building in my pelvis. This was already an outstanding fuck, the kind I'd replay as I jerked off for months to come, but I wanted more. I wanted to capture that unknown feeling and ride it over the edge. I wanted to show Tom proof of his sexual skill. I wanted to cum in the purest way a bottom could, brought there by a man's cock, and nothing more.
"Fuck me Tom! Pound my fuckin' hole! Wreck me with that daddy dick!", I cried.
"Yeah baby! Daddy's gonna knock you up! Gonna paint that pretty pink pussy!" In response, Tom increased his effort, quickening the pace and bending me to my limit. Now he was hammering my fuck-bulb, ramming into it at full speed though my gaping hole. His jaw hung open, while his brow scrunched in desperation.
The feeling inside me grew to a frothing boil. Waves of warm pleasure rippled nonstop from my groin. I could sense it just out of reach, hovering at the back of my skull. With each jab from Tom's man-meat, it swelled, then contracted, teetering on the brink of explosion. I was paralyzed, focused completely on the impending crash.
But it just wouldn't come. Tom's assault was unquestionably hard and true, but for some reason my anal-O simply stalled. There was something missing, some secret ingredient I'd had before but couldn't name. Thrashing and moaning, crying for release, I had to end it.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum! Don't fuckin' stop.", I squealed to no one.
In a flash, my hand wrapped around my steel-hard dick and started stroking. It was covered in precum and my palm glided blindingly over the purple head. Immediately, the familiar tingle of masturbation asserted itself in my brain. This was an orgasm I knew how to control. Two, four, six pumps and I was there, ruined yet so satisfied.
"Fuuuuuuck", I heard myself yell, as my balls pulled up and jets of jizz burst from my piss-slit. They splattered on my face, coating it in ribbons of spooge from chin to forehead. A little landed in my open mouth, filling it with my own salty tang. The last few ropes, weaker than the start, puddled on my chest
Through all of this, Tom kept pounding, more for me than himself. His naked, muscular body was flushed with the effort. He'd delayed his own pleasure to focus on mine, and wasn't ready when I got my nut.
When I finished, without missing a beat, he pulled out, rolled me over, and climbed on top, totally ignoring the mess of jizz soaking into the sheets. I made no effort to help or oppose him. I was his to use. His fuck-pole slipped easily back into my sloppy hole, ready for the grand finale.
Behind me again, with all his weight on my ragdoll body, Tom humped ravenously. I used what little strength I had left to clench my spent ring, hoping to give him the friction he deserved. Thrusts came wild and fast, and primal grunts filled the air, while his stubble scratched at the nape of my neck.
Tom's usual precision was totally gone, and I sensed he was close. All that was left was to brace for impact. Not a minute later, and I felt his fat pipe expand even wider.
"Oh shit baby", Tom roared into my ear. "Here it fuckin' cooooomes!"
Shot after shot of fiery spunk gushed into my well-used cock-chute. I could feel it filling me, lubing Tom's enormous cum-cannon. There was more than enough to coat it, with plenty more dribbling down my taint. His last satisfied thrusts were long and slick.
"Christ, I love your ass, baby", Tom muttered softly. "Sometimes I just gotta breed a pussy good and deep. Yours takes it and begs for more." He punctuated the thought by flexing his manhood, sending a shiver up my spine.
"Any fuckin' time, daddy", I exhaled, eyes closed.
I savoured the afterglow: the knowledge that I'd given him to an epic nut, that he'd chosen me, and that his powerful man-cream was becoming part of me.
A few moments later, without a word, Tom rolled us over into a spoon, and pulled up the blankets we'd tossed everywhere. One arm wrapped around my chest, pulling me into his much larger one. The other cradled my head. His firm cock was still inside me, holding in his load.
Safe in Tom's embrace, in his bed, and thouroughly fucked, I drifted off without even noticing. I was out before he began to snore.
Matt Handles Zak's Stick Shift
Now, you're probably expecting to hear what happened after Tom and I woke up. That was a good morning, and I promise I'll get to it eventually, but this is my story, so I get to tell it however I choose. Right now, we're going to jump ahead a little bit.
It had been over a week since Zak mentioned his teammates in the parking lot. Initially, I'd had too much going on to take it seriously, but after a few dry days, I naturally got curious. Not surprisingly, I hadn't gotten any more details from Zak himself.
I'd never really checked out the basketball team before, at least not deliberately. There were a lot of students, and we obviously ran in different crowds: them at frat parties, me with my mom. Once I searched for them though, I realized I'd seen most of them before, either in posters, or a couple of times around campus.
I also realized that, despite all of them being tall, and fit as fuck, they weren't all studs. About 5 of them were notably handsome, and among that group, Zak was the clear standout. That's not to say the other guys were ugly (I'd have killed for arms like theirs) but they didn't have bright futures in modeling.
My main source of information was the team's online roster. It turns out, sports teams publish photos and physical stats for anyone to read, including thirsty gays. Pretty quickly, I'd zeroed in on the guys I was most interested in, and was putting together fantasies of what I hoped they'd do to me. More than once I found myself legs-up in a locker room, with multiple jocks towering over me. Practically the only detail missing was their dick sizes.
The biggest mystery, of course, was which guys were even interested. From the info I had, none of them were obviously gay, but then again, that's not the kind of thing most athletes would advertise. Without certainty either way, my imagination was left to run wild, which was a recipe for disappointment. Even Zak, who was pretty brazenly into dudes, didn't leave a trace of it in public profiles.
With social media cmpletely tapped out, my investigation advanced to the next logical step: spying on them with Monica during practice.
"So you're sure about Tanner?", I asked.
"Totally. 100%", she replied. "I'm in a study group with his GF, and he texts her constantly. No way you're getting a taste of that third-leg."
"Shit. I think he was my second favourite. His Insta has sooo many thirst traps."
"Boy def knows how to use what he's got, but he's not givin' any of it to you." She shook her head at me. "And who cares anyway? You're already nailing the best one. Don't be greedy, Matt."
Monica and I had grabbed a table on the second floor of the Psych building. Ostensibly we were practicing for our midterms, Ethics and History respectively, but the real draw was the floor to ceiling picture windows. These windows just happened to overlook Osborne's outdoor basketball courts, which, during the warm California autumn, the basketball team just happened to use for practice. This gave us front-row seats, but with a tad more discretion than ogling from the bleachers.
"I mean, you're right, but it's not like I can hit him up whenever. We hooked-up like one-and-a-half times, and I'm still too chicken-shit to text him."
"So what? If he doesn't respond, fuck him, and if he does, fuck them." She smiled at her own joke, and I feigned innocence in return.
"Ugh. I feel like I got super lucky and now I'm gonna fuck it up. Why can't guys just be simple?"
"Yeah, yeah, your life sucks. Ok, but how about 21 though? What's his name? Brock?"
The conversation continued as we watched the show outside, debating the potential of the various bros. I didn't exactly learn anything new, about them or History, but there was a giddy thrill in scoping out the whole group, in the flesh, working up a sweat.
When practice ended, Monica and I packed up too, and headed downstairs. She'd picked me up from my place, but she was going to her parents' after this, so I was on my own to get home.
I watched Monica's beat-up Camry turn out of the parking lot, then headed in the opposite direction. There was technically a bus that would take me most of the way, but the schedule meant I could walk in about the same time.
I had just stepped onto the sidewalk when I heard a shout from behind me.
"Yo, Matt! Dude! You need a ride?"
Surprised, I turned around to see Zak pulled up to the curb, leaning out the window of an electric blue muscle car. I noticed it said `Challenger' on the grill.
The half of him that I could see was wearing an Osborne athletics t-shirt, but the sleeves and sides had been torn out, revealing more than a hint of his shredded chest. Instead of the usual spike, his auburn hair was mostly hidden beneath a backwards UA cap, with just a little spilling out behind his ears. A perfect smile and thick pair of arms completed the look. This was peak bro, and nobody had ever worn it better.
I froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. My cock twitched in my jeans, and I felt his blue eyes drilling into me.
"Hop in", he called again. It wasn't an offer, but more like a command.
This time I snapped into motion, and jogged over to the passenger side. I felt my heart beat faster. On the surface this was a simple favour, but I knew there was more to it. Why was I falling for it yet again?
I fiddled with the handle once or twice, before the door finally swung open, and then I dropped into a low leather seat. Zak's scent washed over me as I entered his car, a mixture of his deodorant and natural jock musk. Jesus, he even smelled hot. Apparently he'd had time to rinse off after practice.
"Thanks, man", I said to the windshield, voice stumbling.
I turned to look at him, embarrassed by how handsome I knew he would be. Even sitting, he towered over me, and I had to tilt my head up to face him properly. For an instant, his gaze met mine, cocky eyes set beneath a strong brow, before I glanced away, back to his wide pecs.
"No worries, bro", he smirked. "I'been meanin' to hit you up. Plus, I need your help with somethin' anyway."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a jerk in the shiny fabric of his gym shorts. Suddenly I had an idea what that something might be.
"Oh, yeah?" I did my best impression of chill.
"Fuck yeah, dude. You know how I get after a workout, and I know the perfect way to reward my boys."
As he was talking, Zak hit the gas, and we peeled out onto the mostly empty campus street. It occurred to me that he hadn't asked where I lived, and definitely hadn't been there before, but I got the sense that it wasn't going to matter. "Your boys, as in...", I trailed off. He stuck out his tongue, and his bulge jumped again, not only finishing my question, but answering it as well.
Using his right hand, Zak reached over and palmed the back of my head like a basketball. Then a firm pressure, irresistible yet restrained, pulled me toward his beautiful body. I could tell it was nowhere near the full strength of that muscled arm. I wasn't being forced, only guided, or even permitted. The time for conversation had ended.
Why was I letting him do this? Did I even want to? What if someone was watching? I didn't bother answering myself.
I expected him to shove me straight to his waiting crotch, but instead I found myself detoured to his lips. Eyes closed, mouths open, he kissed me greedily without ever tapping the brakes. His mint-flavoured tongue wrestled mine into submission, and I felt my face flush. There were sparks as he sucked my lower lip, and his stubble brushed against my shaved chin. This was something I rarely got from Tom, arousal not only at me, but with me.
I savoured that moment, probably a second longer than was safe, until I felt another tug on my skull. With that reminder, our kiss broke, and my newly hard dick twitched again. I had a job to do, and it was time to get to work.
Left hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, Zak moved me to his groin. The angle leaning over from the passenger seat was awkward, but I wasn't about to complain. Luckily, the only stick shift was the one in his shorts.
Without further hesitation, I grabbed his waistband and yanked it to his knees. He lifted his ass to assist. He was going commando (I expected nothing less) and his halfie immediately sprung up to meet me.
Target in sight, I wrapped my lips around his cockhead, then sunk all the way down. He wasn't yet at full mast, so I had no trouble taking it, but as my nose hit his thigh, I still felt his meat nudge my throat. It was a good reminder of just how much fucking bro cock was coming my way.
"Shit yeah, bro", Zak hissed as I bottomed out. "Swallow that shit." He slid his whole body forward to give me better access.
I couldn't see, but I imagined him staring at the cocksucker in his lap, and being torn away to check the traffic around us.
Staying balls deep, I massaged his manhood with my mouth, eager to feel it expand all the way. In no time, I got my wish, until over 8" of Zak were stretching my jaw, steel stiff and too much to handle. The pressure at the back of my throat pushed me upward, away from my goal.
For about a minute, I worked his swollen tip, short smooth strokes in and out, swirling my tongue over his piss slit. I needed some time to adjust to the weird positioning, and Zak seemed happy to give me the reins. Again and again, I drew him through my sealed lips, into the wet suction beyond, before pulling back to his flared ridge. On the last gulp, I was hit with the salty tang of precum, and a delicious jolt of satisfaction.
"Fuuuuck, keep suckin' dude", Zak sighed above me. I pictured him tossing his head back in pleasure, unable to maintain focus. "I'm gonna nut you up at 80 miles an hour."
There was a noticeable turn, like Zak briefly became the source of gravity, and he tightened his grip to hold me on his cock. The next instant, his foot hit the floor, 8 cylinders roared, and our speed more than doubled. I felt a rush of adrenaline, not only from the acceleration, that raw masculine power, but also the acute reminder of where I was, what we were doing, and the horny, seedy, risk of it all.
My heart was fluttering, but I never let up on Zak's fuck-stick. If anything, it made me even more eager to service him. He wanted to bust going pedal to the metal, which made it my duty to get him over the edge.
"Holy shit", I gasped, coming up for air. "Where are we?" In the moment, I admired the gorgeous piece of meat I was being offered, smacking it against my face with stiff wet splats.
"Freeway, bruh", was all he said. This definitely wasn't the way to my house. Then he dragged me up for another deep kiss.
For half a second, everything was electric. I couldn't help but peek at how goddamn sexy he was. My pussy and junk, still trapped in my underwear, both clenched involuntarily. Something about this, I absolutely needed more of it.
Awestruck, I was shoved back to my happy place, this time with more explicit instruction. Zak was ready to fuck, and there was only one hole available.
"Get ready, dude", voice like a knowing wink. "This is gonna be rough."
Brute strength replaced gentle pressure, as he rammed his entire cum-cannon into my thrussy. My nose was crushed against him, flooded with the scent of jock. I gagged, but there was no hope of escape. In silence, I thanked him for the warning, the warm-up, and for having chosen me to fulfill this fantasy.
Still steering one-handed, he held himself balls-deep for a beat, then began to thrust. It wasn't graceful, but it didn't matter. He had enough muscle, stamina, and cock to get'er done. I was in no position to argue, trying desperately to straighten my throat.
Time and again, his fat head pushed beyond swallowing, prying open my gullet for his satisfaction. With every stroke, I willed him closer to orgasm, equally desperate for air and jizz. My vision became fuzzy, but that only lowered my inhibition further.
"No fuckin' way, bro", he hissed. "Champion fuckin' cocksucker right here." This time I had no doubt, he was leaning back, eyes closed, caution to the wind, lost in primal bliss.
Initially I'd been afraid of someone seeing us. Traffic sailed past on all sides, and we would have been obvious to anyone in a pickup or semi. Now the risk only made it hotter.
As the onslaught continued, I lost track of what was going on. It became hard to concentrate. My whole world narrowed onto Zak's incredible fuck-pole, and the brutal skull-fuck he was dealing out. God, it felt so good to surrender, to abandon myself to his need, terrifying yet absolutely right.
"Yea'buddy", he was panting now. "Don't fuckin' fight it! Gimme that hole! Gimme that fuckin' nut!"
"Guhhh. Guhhh. Guhhh", was all I could reply.
Suddenly, I was pulled free, and I instinctively gulped in oxygen. I needed to cough, and there was spit running down my chin. It was like Zak could sense my exact limits, and then stretched me just past them.
At the same moment, the V8 screamed, and there was another burst of acceleration. If I were in my right mind, I'd have worried we were going too fast, too fast even with both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road. Now though, I understood this was how it had to be.
"Dude, open wide. Time for the big fuckin' finish!"
His left arm flexed, and every inch of Zak's schlong drilled itself back into my cock-tunnel. Without a pause, long, deep strokes came rapidfire, pummeling what was left of it. I gagged, the engine revved one final time, and then his monster somehow swelled even bigger.
"Fuuuuck", Zak yelled. "Fuckin' shit! I'm gonna cuuuum!"
The first pulse of white-hot spunk fired into the back of my throat, coating my tastebuds with delicious cock-nectar. Before the second rope could join it, Zak yanked me up, and his bro-cream sprayed across my cheek instead.
My hand shot out and wrapped around his throbbing manhood, aiming it so I was staring right down the barrel. From there, a non-stop volley of cum, almost a constant stream, erupted from his balls, coating my face in sticky jock-essence. I jerked him for all I was worth, milking out every last magnificent drop. Eyes, forehead, dashboard, nothing was spared.
We both paused for a moment, still racing at God knows what speed, and held our breaths. I don't think either one of us was really aware of our surroundings. Then, we exhaled, and time began ticking again.
Zak's foot lifted off the gas, and we coasted down to something reasonable, at least, reasonable for a college stud driving a muscle car. It was a minor miracle we hadn't hit anything, and yet, if there was one person I knew could handle it, it was him.
I leaned up, sinking into my seat, and wiped the jizz from my eyes. There was more than seemed possible, but I scooped it into my mouth without question. To do otherwise would be wasting it.
Before I could finish, I felt Zak's tongue on my cheek, collecting his own man-milk, followed by a quick, intoxicating kiss. When it ended, he sat up too, tugging his shorts over his now spent python.
My own cock was still rock hard, and I could feel the wet of precum soaking my underwear. For some reason though, I chose not to whip it out.
"Jesus, bruh. Right on", he straightened his hat. "That was fuckin' epic! Your face is gonna be pregnant." He laughed, and his giant shoulders sighed in total relaxation.
Once we were cleaned up, Zak actually did drive me home. We'd gone a couple miles in the wrong direction, but it wasn't like there was anywhere else I'd rather be. Hell, it wasn't much slower than walking, and definitely more fun.
Except for my address, we didn't really talk on the return trip. I had no clue what to say, and I didn't get the sense he wanted to chat. It wasn't like he was angry or embarrassed, there just wasn't a reason for words. Instead, he squeezed his huge left hand around the back of my neck and slipped into a contented smile.
As we rolled up to my driveway, the quiet broke.
"Oh yeah, been meanin' to tell you", he turned to me. "Keep Friday night open. We got a game, and the boys'n'I are plannin' an after-party. 3 or 4 of us, sometime `round 9."
"Like, all at once?", was all I could think.
Why did I ask such a dumb question? Wasn't that exactly what I wanted? Did I even know what I wanted? Right then, all I wanted was to go back in time, back to the comfortable silence.
"Hell, yeah. Gonna be horny as fuck when we win. Don't sweat, dude. I know you need it, and I know your ass can take us."
He knew I could take them? That vote of confidence made my chest swell, that plus the pint of baby-batter I'd eaten.
I watched his blue streak squeal down my street, trying to catch one last glimpse of Zak's handsome face. Then I turned the knob to go inside.
"Hey, honey!", called Mom, probably working. "Did you have a good day?"
Fuckin' crushed it, bro.
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