I don't know if you've heard about gay sports tournaments or if you've ever played in one, but believe me, going to a new city and being surrounded by hundreds of jocks all out to impress each other with their athleticism and their looks is enough to get anyone's blood pumping. Usually, you're greeted at registration with tournament brackets, maps, bar coupons, and condoms, because organizers understand that this is an opportunity for some serious athletic activities off the courts as well as on.
The biggest gay indoor volleyball tournament of the year is in New York: 70 or more teams from across the continent (and a few from Europe) come to play, and it's worth the travel expenses just to watch some of them walk on and off the court. It's a schmorgesbord of men: beach bums with smooth, tan bodies; All-American boys from next door; rugged, stocky, unshaven jocks ready to get dirty; preps, twinkies, daddies, you name it. And in my very first New York tournament, I had the opportunity to do more than just watch.
I was in the quarter finals, and my team was having a tough time with a squad from Chicago. These guys hit with some serious heat, and their setter (the guy who passes the ball to the spikers) had the softest, sweetest hands I'd ever seen. It seemed like no matter how poor the pass to him was, he would be able to just float it perfectly to his hitter. The guy was poetry in motion. He also was an absolute knockout.
The shortest guy on their team, he had trim hair and tantalizingly friendly green eyes which always seemed to be winking. His smile showed off his perfect white teeth, and his chin was dimpled but strong. He had more of a soccer build with wide shoulders, a solid chest, and a trim waist. His gorgeous, hairy legs were strong from all the jumping and crouching he did as a setter, and that butt of his, as I watched it move around inside his black nylon shorts, was mouthwateringly perfect.
Although we were outskilled, our team was hanging in there purely on hustle: diving for balls, blocking their hits as much as possible, and moving our defense to confuse them. Every time it looked like we were about to catch up, though, my little friend on the other side would make a spectacular play and set up his team to take control. One time, when I was up at net, he made a gorgeous set from his knees for his teammate to kill. He stayed on his knees for a little while and our eyes met. We both smiled at each other, and I said, "Nice set, guy" as nonchalantly as possible, trying to be a good sport but trying not to give away how impressed I was, both with his play and his hot looks.
"I do some of my best work in this position," he said smiling before getting up onto his feet. "And my name's Jim." He was obviously toying with my mind. He had to know how hunky he was, but even though I knew he was just using his secret weapon on me, it worked. I kept watching him when I should have been focusing on defense, and every couple of points he'd turn my way and flash that gorgeous smile. My heart melted each time.
After they won the match, I shook his hand firmly and grinned. "Nice match, Jim. If you distract the next team the way you did ours, you've got this tournament in the bag."
Jim looked a bit confused. "What?"
I just answered, "Nothing. Good luck. I'm off to the showers," and walked away. I knew he heard what I had said, and I knew he wasn't that naive. I just hoped I hadn't ruined my chances by being too forward with the line about the shower .
I hadn't. I barely had time to take off my sneakers before I saw Jim leaning against the inside of the doorway. "Now it's your turn to distract me," he said with a glimmer of that smile pulling up the corners of his lips and eyes.
I pulled my shirt over my head, revealing the results of my years spent in the gym. The hair that stretched from the middle of my chest down my stomach and into my shorts was matted down with sweat, and I rubbed and scratched my washboard stomach, turning slightly to my side so he would have the best view. "Very nice," Jim said as his eyes stayed glued to my abs. "Please, continue."
With that encouragement, I shrugged, smiled, turned my back to him, and slid my shorts down my legs, exposing by ass framed in my sweaty jock strap. I reached behind me and lifted the straps to realign them more evenly around my cheeks and snapped them back into place. I glanced at his image in the mirror, and he was showing off that gorgeous smile as his hand wandered unconsciously toward his crotch.
With my back still to him, I slid my jock strap off and tossed it on the ground. As I scratched my crotch and pubes, trying to lift the hair that had been matted down from a day's worth of sweating inside that jock, I heard his light footsteps approach. I expected to feel his warm hands on some part of my body, but he stopped a few steps before me. I turned, only to see him holding my jock strap. As he stared right into my eyes, he lifted that old, wet cotton to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply.
I watched as his crotch swelled, his eyes closed, and his smile grew. This guy was suffocating on his newly found drug, and he was in euphoria. I knew then how I wanted to play this one. I just needed to test out the waters a bit more.
I stepped up to him until I was looking a bit down at him. "You like that, don't you?" When I saw him nod and relax just a bit, I snapped out my hand and snatched the jock from his grip. In that first instant, his face looked like I had just taken this little boy's favorite toy. Before he could say anything, I grabbed my cock firmly in one hand, making the mostly-soft head swell just a bit, and I held the back of his neck by the hand that held my jock. "Suck it, and you'll have your toy back."
With a barely noticeable hesitation, he lowered himself to his knees and took my whole, sesmi-soft cock in my mouth. As I got thicker and more erect, he had to start getting creative, because he was having a tough time getting the whole thing in at once. He licked at the pungent underside, where cock met balls. Then his tongue traveled down and he swallowed each ball and played with them with his lips and tongue.
"I said suck it," I barked as I grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him off my balls, and planted his mouth right over my shaft. He'd learn how to take all of it. I bucked my hips forward without letting his neck move an inch, and I felt the head of my cock squeezing down his throat. I held him there for about five seconds, until he gagged, feeling his survival instinct to inhale denied. When his face pulled off my meat, I shoved my jock strap in his face. His face melted as he drank in the odor of my crotch sweat. At the peak of his inhale, I pulled away the jock and planted my meat down his throat again. This time, when he gagged, I kept my cock impaled down his throat for another second or two to let him know that he'd better learn how to handle my dick.
After about three more times of alternating cock and jock, his throat loosened up a whole lot, and I was able to fuck the hell out of his throat. His eyes stayed shut, squinting, but I could tell from the moans that he was getting into it. He'd passed that phase, but I had one last part of the test to go.
I pulled him to his feet, holding him by the underside of his chin and the scruff of his neck, and brought his face to mine. As I kissed him, I slid my hands down his solid arms until I reached his wrists. Then, I held his forearms firmly, my fingers pressing into his flesh a bit more than necessary, and pushed his arms against the middle of his back.
The tighter I held them there, the more he moaned, and I felt his hard cock pressing against my thigh. This was going to be good.
"Let's go," I said as I walked ahead of him down to the back of the locker room. There was a door that said it was for employees only, but it was a Sunday so I figured no one would be bothering us there. It turned out to be a storage room with a desk, metal shelves and some old, uncovered piping.
He walked through the door after me, and I immediately shoved the pig's head back down to my crotch. This time, he needed no guidance; my cockhead was down his hungry throat in no time. His head bobbed again and again as I watched my thick tool disappear into his face. "Look at me when you suck cock," I demanded, and instantly I could those gorgeous eyes staring into mine, his face pumping in and out. I felt the tight pressure as my cockhead surged in and out of his throat and my balls were striking him firmly on the chin with every thrust.
He was very talented, but I wasn't going to let myself cum this way. I'd have his hot ass before this session was through. I pulled his face off my cock and told him to stand and turn around. I pulled down his shorts and took off his socks, keeping the socks in my hand.
"Bend over and play with that ass," I commanded. He reached back, bent his knees slightly, and pulled apart those sweet ass cheeks, and his pink pucker was looking right at me. He turned his head to see if I liked what I saw.
"Keep your eyes front, boy, and keep playing with it."
He immediately turned away from me, placed a finger in his mouth, and stuck it right up his ass. As I was getting hot and bothered watching his little show, I began tying his two socks together and then separately I tied my two socks together. When I'd finished that, I walked up behind him and grabbed his wrists.
"We're gonna play a little game now, boy," I said as I wrapped my two socks in a figure eight pattern around his wrists, fastening his hands behind his back. I pulled the knot tight. "On your knees, and keep those eyes front."
I knelt behind him, my hairy chest against his back, and pressed my jock up against his face. His cock immediately began to bob and dance in front of him. As I rubbed the jock more and more firmly against his face, I began poking it into his mouth. His jaw opened up, and I got as much as could fit in there, pressing it with the heel of my palm.
"You like that, boy? You like tasting the sweat off my nuts?"
All he could do was nod and moan hard. Then I wrapped his two socks around his head and tied them from behind. His muzzle of man sweat was secure, and he was all mine.
I spit on my hand and coated my thick tool with saliva. My right hand pushed this pig's head down against his forearms as my left hand, gripping the base of my cock tight, guided my fuck pole right up his chute. With two inches of my meat to go, he whimpered a bit. When I shoved the last of it ruthlessly up his hole, the gagged scream that probably meant slow down only encouraged me. He had gotten used to my cock down his throat pretty fast; he'd learn to love getting pounded the other way even more. He just didn't know yet how much he'd love it.
At this point, he wasn't a person, but a piece of meat for my pleasure, and I fucked him brutally, watching my thick shaft piston in and out of his hole. I stopped briefly and pushed his chest lower into the ground to get a better angle, to get deeper. When I started pummeling his hole again, my hand pressing the middle of his back, the muffled yelps increased in volume and tempo. I watched the sinewy muscles in his arms stand out as he strained against the sock bondage, but that just encouraged me to work harder. He'd be free when I was good and ready.
I pulled out of his ass quickly and watched as his hole breathed and took its time closing up. Then I shoved the whole cock right down the tunnel, watching his back arch and his head spasm backwards. Slowly out. Quickly in. Arch & spasm. Slowly out. Quickly in. Arch & spasm.
After the last time I pulled out, I waited for a moment and watched his body hungrily anticipating my next attack on his butt. Instead, I wrapped my right arm around his waist and lifted his kneeling body to a standing position. His cock was rock hard, but I didn't care. Not yet. I bent him over the desk. "Shove your ass in the air, pig," was all he needed before his legs were straining on tip-toed feet to show me that gorgeous ass, its gateway no longer completely closed. There was a beautiful "O" of pitch black surrounded by the maroon of his ass lips, and that "O" was begging to be filled.
I grabbed him by the hips and slapped my cockhead against his puckering chute. The mushroom-head of my cock tugged at the tender skin of his asshole, pulling the "O" this way and that, but I refused to go in. His moans, once of pain but now of frustration, grew louder. "Quiet!" I barked, and the room was silent. My cock continued to explore the valleys and crevices of this man's butt, but despite wanting to, I wouldn't enter.
Prolonged pleasure. Prolonged pleasure. It'll be worth the wait. It'll be worth the wait.
Without any warning, I slapped his right cheek as hard as I could. Then I spat on it and pressed my cock all over the pink flesh. I then slid my wet cock back near it's dark cave, pressing, caressing, pulsing. Whack! My left hand made the symmetry complete. Spit and wet cock caressed the pain. And again, my pole snaked back into hiding, teasing urgently but never intruding.
Each time I slapped, his muffled scream got a bit softer. Each time I retreated to that sumptuous ass's crevice, his moans grew more urgent, more desperate. Finally, after holding out as long as I could, I gave in to the vision, the ass, the pleasure prolonged long enough.
My cock tore into his ass, hitting bottom without a scream or a shout from my bottom, just a satisfied moan of fulfilled lust. I plowed in and out with wild abandon, gritting my teeth and clenching his shoulders with all my might.
I lost myself in his ass, closing my eyes and ears to all but the lurid slaps of my body striking his with each thrust. Man heat built as our pace increased. He took everything, every plunge, every surge, every stab of my hot cock. My breathing got crazy and my body began to shudder. I fucked and fucked, harder and harder. Sweat rolled off my body. It mixed with his.
I felt a searing, mind-numbing tightening at the base of my cock. Gripping him harder, I shoved in and out wildly, my cock head pistoning against his insides. Faster and faster. Finally, my body froze. Everything went rigid. I held my breath. Everything was quiet for a brief moment, a moment so quick it might not even exist. Then, it came. The explosion. White-hot cum racing through the roots of my thick cock, spraying out, painting his insides. I felt like I was about to get sucked out my own cock. Gravity never knew such force. My body shook uncontrollably as I emptied my guts into my new found bottom-man.
As my pulse began to settle, I looked down at his beautiful back and strapped arms. He was panting, his face to his side, stomach flat on the desk. I looked down and there was a pool of cum where he had made his deposit...Don't ask me when it happened. I didn't notice.
The jock strap looked so good, so right in his mouth, I didn't want to take it out, but I knew he had at least one other game to play. I untied him and we slowly, wordlessly got dressed. There was no tension; we were simply exhausted. As we were leaving, he smiled that gorgeous smile at me one more time. No words were needed.
I watched a bit of his next match; they were losing. My ride was leaving, so I waved as I left. He smiled, "I'll see you next year." My friend and I headed out, both of us upset that we did not win but vowing that we would do better in New York the following year. I'm not sure if I will, but I'm sure going to try.