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==ON CALL SLUT FOR THE FRAT BRO==
PREVIOUSLY:
Looming above, Ramirez looked wild with lust. I guess he was a true dominant after all. As I gasped and watched him, warily, he grabbed his phone and snapped a quick photo of my ruined face. Then he whipped off his wifebeater, swiped it roughly across my face, dropped it to the floor and then aimed his weapon at my mouth again. He pushed in, began another round of rough long-dicking, and within 20 seconds, accompanied by a series of wild groans, he buried his tool deep in my gullet and blasted a humongous Latin load straight into my stomach.
Ramirez always came like a monster, but this load seemed to go for a full minute. I could feel his shaft pulsing in my mouth, time and again. Lunch was served. Finally, he pulled out slowly, until just the tip was in my mouth. I suckled on it, swallowing any remaining drops of his baby batter. Above me, I heard again the telltale click of a camera. Carson would be pleased with this one.
CHAPTER 8: Athletic Supporter, Part 1
A few days after Ramirez destroyed my throat, with still a week left in winter break, I got a cryptic text from Carson:
"Faggot, you a good driver?"
I responded, as I always did with him, "yes sir."
I heard nothing for another day, and when I did he told me to be back on campus a few days early. Classes started on Monday so I'd planned on returning Sunday, but he wanted me back by Friday morning. Of course my mind immediately went to what happened the last time I'd returned early from a holiday--a full day and night of hard use by my master and his frat bro--but then I remembered that this weekend the hockey team had back-to-back away games at the campus of our rivals, State, a few hours away. Whatever Carson was up to, it was new.
I got the earliest bus back on Friday morning, buzzing with anticipatory horniness at the idea of seeing Carson again. He had said he'd pick me up from the bus station, so I was hoping he was as eager for our reunion as I was.
The bus ride seemed to last forever. When we pulled into the station, I practically vaulted out of my seat. I grabbed my bags and raced through the station.
Carson's Jeep was parked just outside in the passenger pickup area. As I approached, I saw there was already a figure in the passenger seat. It was Matt. He cocked his head toward the back.
I hopped in and tossed my bags onto the back seat next to me. The moment I pulled the door shut Carson peeled out of the parking lot like a man on the run.
"Hello sirs," I said, suddenly feeling shy.
Carson met my eyes in the rearview mirror, a stoic look on his face, but said nothing. Matt turned his muscular body to look at me.
"Sup bitch?" he said with a cocky grin.
I noticed they were both wearing suits and ties, a tradition for travel days on the hockey team. Both men looked incredibly handsome, Matt in a charcoal grey and Carson in a deep navy. Each wore a white dress shirt and a tie patterned with our school's colors.
A Travis Scott song played. The mood in the car was weird and edgy. I'd never felt this vibe from Carson before. Matt seemed to notice the tension, looking back and forth between the two of us, amused. He chuckled to himself.
"Don't worry, faggot," he said. "That's just Conway's game face. Boy's a killer."
He punched Carson's shoulder playfully. Carson didn't react. He kept his eyes on the road and drove with his right hand on the wheel, his left idly tapping the door to the music.
We made the short drive back to campus. As we approached, I realized Carson wasn't driving me in the direction of either my dorm or Delta. Soon, we pulled into the athletic complex parking lot. A charter bus stood by, the rest of the hockey team loading their giant bags underneath.
"Lie down on the seat NOW, faggot," Carson said. His voice was low and insistent.
I quickly laid on my back. Clearly I wasn't meant to be seen by the other teammates. I felt the car pull into a parking space. Carson killed the engine, and then turned down toward me.
"We've got games tonight and tomorrow night at State," he began, sounding as authoritative as ever. "It's a four hour drive. We're staying at the Marriott at least tonight, possibly tomorrow night if we go into OT. You're gonna drive my car up later today and wait for us in the room. Be ready. We'll definitely need to let off some steam after each game, win or lose..."
He and Matt exchanged a knowing look. My cock stirred.
"I'll find a way to leave you a room key," Carson continued. "Tonight's game won't be over until at least 9 and we'll eat with the guys after, so make sure you're there and ready by 9:30 latest. Plan to be at State until at least tomorrow night. Maybe Sunday. When you get there, park somewhere no one will notice my car. I don't care if you have to walk a mile, be fucking discreet. Same thing for the next few hours. In fact, leave it here until you're ready to leave town. I don't want anyone seeing a random faggot driving my car around campus. Got it?"
That stung a little, but I couldn't argue with his logic. As If I'd ever question Carson.
"Yes sir!" I squeaked from my supine position.
Carson tossed me his keys. Both guys got out of the car. I heard them grab their bags from the trunk and slam it. Suddenly the door just behind my head opened. Carson loomed over me, his godlike package just a few tantalizing inches from my face.
"Don't move until the bus pulls out, then wait a few minutes more," he said down to me, a stern look on his face. He leaned down. "And faggot?"
"Yes sir?"
He gently stroked my cheek, gave it a light smack, then spat right on my face quickly.
"Don't fuck up my car."
I laid there until I heard the bus engine rumble to life and then disappear as it pulled away. Carson's loogie cooled on my forehead. I looked at Tiktok for a few minutes while I waited.
Once the coast seemed clear, I pulled myself up and cracked my neck. The parking lot was deserted, only a few cars parked nearby, presumably belonging to other players. It had snowed earlier, but the snow had already been plowed into small mountains punctuating the ends of each row.
I opened the door and was met with a blast of freezing air. I groaned to myself, realizing I was going to have to lug my bags a mile back to the dorm in the cold. The things we do for dick...
Half an hour later, I was lying in my dorm bed with a hand around my cock and my plug lodged firmly in my ass. It had been a long time since I'd been fucked, and God knows what I was about to walk into, so I wanted to be prepared.
I also knew there was no way I'd get through this drive without busting a nut beforehand. I edged and played with my hole for a couple of hours, watching the dirtiest porn ThisVid could provide. Finally, I came hard across my stomach as I had so many times in the past month, the video of Carson pissing on my face playing on loop on my phone.
I packed a few changes of clothes, my laptop, and all my bottoming needs. I wasn't sure what Carson had in store for me, but it was important to be ready. A couple of hours later, I was back in Carson's Jeep, for once in the driver's seat, barreling down the highway towards State.
I'd had to stop for gas before I left town. Carson had left the tank nearly empty: unusual for a man who was usually fully loaded. I also grabbed a 6-inch turkey breast and Sun Chips from Subway for an early dinner. The drive passed slowly. I knew that getting there early wouldn't do me any good, but my libido still had me speeding.
It occurred to me that I was taking yet another risk, thrust into another unknown environment pursuing my hockey stud (or studs, as it seemed I was certain to be servicing Matt this weekend as well). But after all I'd done for Carson, even in his most sadistic moments I never felt unsafe. It did seem that, in his own self-serving way, he cared about me at least a little.
I'd received from him a series of texts about logistics during the ride: where to park to avoid detection, how to get into the room. As usual, I followed his instructions to the letter.
The Marriott stood perfectly nondescript just off the highway on the outskirts of campus. Per Carson's orders, I parked his Jeep at a strip mall several blocks away, outside of a Chipotle. I crossed the busy avenue with my backpack of bottoming supplies and waltzed into the hotel like I owned the place. No one paid me any attention.
I took an elevator to the third floor and found room 308, my home for the weekend. A few doors down was a little alcove with an ice machine and a few vending machines. I quickly looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then crouched down and swiped my hand under the ice machine. The surface was wet but, sure enough, there was the key card.
It opened room 308. I looked around and found a completely average American hotel room. All the lights were on: typical boys. The entrance was flanked by a small coat closet on one side and the bathroom on the other. I saw a pair of dopp kits next to the sink. The rest of the room was taken up by two queen beds, a dresser with a TV, and a table and two leather chairs by the window. The curtains had been drawn.
At the foot of the beds was each boy's luggage, carelessly strewn about, clothes already spilling out of them messily. Their suits and ties lay crumpled on the beds. Having seen how Carson and Matt lived in the frat house, none of this surprised me.
It was a little after 9:30. I checked the live score of the game on my phone: tied 3-3 with 17 minutes to go in the third period. That meant I had some time.
I didn't want to prep too early, so I spent a few minutes tidying up the room. Matt had taken the bed by the window, Carson by the bathroom. I smoothed out the comforters and organized the snacks scattered about the top of the dresser. I hung up their suits in the closet, and folded the rest of the clothes into each bag neatly. I figured they'd appreciate it. Yes, of course I sniffed their clothes. Sadly, everything seemed pretty clean.
I checked the game again: still 3-3, 6 minutes left. If it went into overtime I'd be waiting even longer. But my anxiousness was starting to get the best of me, so I decided to get ready for whatever Carson had in mind.
In the bathroom, I found a surprise. Sitting on top of the closed lid of the toilet was a dirty jockstrap, and a note torn from the Marriott notepad. It read, in messy handwriting, each word underlined: "wear this."
I took a look inside the pouch of the jock. It was filthy, crusted with sweat and piss and God knows what else. A few blonde pubes stuck to the fabric. The jock was Carson's, without a doubt. I brought it to my nose and inhaled. Instant boner. The scent was musky and, by now, intimately familiar to me. I'm sure my mouth began watering.
Setting the jock aside, I began my ritual. I cleaned out thoroughly, and then took a quick shower. After drying off, I slid on the jock. It was loose on me. I wondered if Carson had intended that small humiliation. Then I lubed up my butt plug and inserted it into my ass to warm up. You never knew what he'd want, and as Jake Thorn had impressed on me in that painfully unforgettable way, it was always best to be ready for anything.
I laid on Carson's bed and refreshed the game on my phone.
It was over. Final score: 4-3 State.
We'd lost.
Fear quickly replaced my horniness. I'd never seen Carson after a loss. The only time I'd served him after a game was a win, and it had been a brutal fuck on the locker room shower floor. I could only imagine what hell my throat and ass were in for tonight. I was equal parts eager and scared.
Waiting was torture. Finally, an hour later, I heard the lock on the door open. I quickly dropped to my knees between the beds.
Matt walked in first, dropping his heavy hockey bag on the floor and giving me barely a grunt as he flopped down on his bed, engrossed in his phone. Carson followed in the same manner. A quick "hey bitch" was all I got as he shed his parka and dropped to his bed as well, looking worn out.
It seemed I'd miscalculated. The vibe in the room was not so much angry as lugubrious. The boys seemed dejected. Clearly the manner of their loss, a last minute goal, was disheartening.
A few minutes went by. I knew I was there for their entertainment, not my own, so I knelt quietly so as not to further upset the mood.
Carson was laying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows looking at his phone, his long legs dangling off the end. I took a chance and crawled to his feet and gently began removing his sneakers. Receiving no reaction, I continued and slowly peeled off his athletic socks. The distinctive smell of clean but sweaty feet began to emanate, and I couldn't help but lean down and kiss his soles. Carson twitched slightly at the sudden touch--apparently he was ticklish--but didn't stop me. I began a thorough, albeit gentle, massage and worship of his feet with my hands and mouth, focusing on one foot and then the other.
After a few minutes, Carson rolled over onto his back and reached for the remote. I heard SportsCenter come on behind me. He was still on his phone, but he started to be more aggressive with his feet, kicking the side of my face lightly with the one I wasn't currently worshipping, using the sole to force my mouth onto all 5 toes, fucking my face with his foot.
"Lemme get some of that?" Matt called out from the other bed.
Carson pulled his foot from my mouth and used it to nudge me towards Matt's bed. The command was clear, so I crawled over. Matt had already kicked off his shoes, so I peeled off each sock as I looked up at him. He was engrossed in his phone, tapping through Snap or Insta stories. One hand was snaked into his sweat pants fondling his junk in the absent way straight jocks always tend to be doing. His feet were bigger than Carson's, with long toes that fit deeper into my mouth. The taste was similar; most feet taste the same, I was learning. It really just depended on what kinds of shoes and socks the guy wore.
As I massaged Matt's feet and sucked his toes, he gave a few appreciative groans. Looking up, it seemed like the bulge in his sweats was growing. I redoubled my efforts and began sucking his big toes like little dicks in the hopes of inspiring him to move me up to the main event.
"Bro, this shit feels so fucking good," Matt said. I looked up and he was talking to Carson, not me. "I gotta find a girl who'll do this for me."
Carson grunted. "My bitch is your bitch, bro."
Suddenly, he jumped out of his bed and pulled his sneakers back on.
"Gotta talk to Barnes," he said, grabbing a key card and strolling out the door.
I continued to work on Matt's feet, a little sad my master had left but still enjoying servicing his roommate. Matt was a little more expressive than Carson: I could see pleasure play across his face. Occasionally his eyes would roll back in his head when I got deep into one of his soles. I'd never thought of myself as having much of a foot fetish, but here I was boned and dripping precum into my borrowed jock.
"You want some of this, boy?" I looked up and Matt had pulled his big cock, now hard, out of his sweats and was waving it around by the base.
"Yes master!" I said, using his preferred address.
Matt pulled his sweats and underwear off and tossed them onto the floor. He spread his legs wide and held his dick by the base and waved it suggestively. I crawled up the bed and hovered over it. He grabbed my face and stuck his thumb in my mouth. I suckled for a moment, then he levered my mouth open and smacked his dick on my tongue a few times. After his thumb withdrew, I opened wide, and dove home.
I swallowed Matt's cock in one fell swoop. At this point, my throat game was getting good enough that I didn't need much warm up, if any.
"Fuuuuuck bitch," he groaned out, lazy but appreciative. "You got that good throat."
I went immediately into a long stroke, all the way up and down, getting my lips to his base every time. I wanted to work up a good amount of spit to lubricate Matt's dick so this blowjob could be sloppy as fuck.
We got into a good rhythm. He had a hand on the back of my head, sometimes both, guiding me up and down, but so far I was in control of the pace. I held his cock by the base with one hand and fondled his balls, covered by a layer of curly hair, with the other. Now and then I brought a hand to his shaft and stroked as I sucked him off.
Matt's commands were curt but clear:
"That's right, swirl your tongue around that head."
"Go deep. Hold it. Good bitch."
"Suck my balls, faggot."
"Yeah, you know I like that throat."
I kept sucking for at least 10 minutes. He was obviously enjoying the head, blissed out and eyes mostly closed. The salty taste of precum coated my tongue. Once in a while he would grab my head in both hands and thrust up into my throat, giving me a little skullfucking, but for the most part he just laid back and let me pleasure his big black cock.
At a certain point when Matt was holding my head down lightly, his dick snaked deep into my throat, I heard the door to the hotel room open and close. Carson was back. I couldn't see him but from the sound of it he was stripping off his clothes. Soon, I felt the bed shift behind me and a dick being slapped against my ass.
"How's the throat?" Carson asked. From the smacks I could tell he wasn't quite hard yet.
"Bomb," Matt replied, fucking deeper into my throat. "This faggot can suck a fucking dick."
"Yeah he can. Katie blew me on the beach on New Year's Eve and the whole time I was thinking I should have Teddy here teach her a thing or two."
I beamed at the compliment, even as I was jealous of this bitch Katie. Matt laughed.
"Still hooking up with your high school girlfriend, bruh?"
"A nut's a nut," Carson said, still smacking his hardening cock on my hole. "And her pussy's so fucking tight. Maybe even tighter than this hole."
I heard him hock up a loogie and spread it on his cock. Another one landed on my asshole and his thumb roughly spread it across and inside. Mentally, I began to prepare myself to open up for his invasion.
"I wanna see this shit," Matt said, using both hands to push me all the way down on his cock as he sat up in bed and peered over my body.
Carson's hands gripped my ass cheeks, pushing them up and towards Matt, arching my back and spreading my hole wide. I felt the head of his cock at my hole. Time to be spitroasted.
Then in one stroke Carson plunged all the way in, balls deep.
I saw stars and screamed around Matt's cock, my sounds muffled by his length inside me. Carson began pounding away, his hips smacking into my ass, his balls swinging against mine. I'd missed his dick so much, but this violent fuck he was throwing me hurt.
"Damn dude," Matt said. "No warm up or nothing? I usually at least let a bitch get used to Matty Jr. for a sec before I put it in turbo."
"That's the difference between a bitch and a faggot," Carson said, his voice husky with lust. "Even the sluttiest bitch you gotta treat with at least a little respect. A faggot is just a couple of holes to use."
Matt pulled out of my mouth and shifted until he was on his knees: a London Bridge. I felt him grab my skull and begin thrusting into my mouth in time with Carson's assault on my ass. When one cock entered me, the other retreated, and vice versa. I felt overwhelmed by how much cock was inside of me. All I could do was hold on, try to breathe, and let these two studs have their way with me.
The pain in my hole abated and soon I was feeling pleasure from Carson's big dick pummeling my prostate. I could tell my own cock was rock hard in the jockstrap, leaking so much precum that it was pouring out through the fabric onto the bedspread.
Carson had his hands on my hips, plunging in and out of my hole with a workmanlike consistency, grunting with each thrust. I felt Matt's big paws leave the sides of my skull as my mouth was impaled on his cock, only to be replaced on my ass cheeks as he leaned over me, spreading me open wider.
"Fuck, bro," he said. "That hole does look tight. Nice and hairless."
"You can have it whenever you want bud," Carson replied.
"Not tonight." He smacked my ass hard twice. "Gonna feed this faggot a big chocolate protein shake soon."
"Suit yourself. You close?"
"Right there, you?"
"Yup. Let's cream him from both ends. Been a while since we shared some pussy."
"Bet."
Matt's hands returned to my skull and another long-dicking commenced. They had given up on keeping a rhythm; both cocks plowed both ends of my body indiscriminately. I was in heaven. Matt's thick piece tickled my tonsils repeatedly as Carson gave my prostate a varsity beating. Both hockey sticks were hard as ice.
This treatment only lasted a few minutes before Carson's thrusts sped up, his breathing becoming more erratic.
"Bout to bust!" he called out.
"Me too, bro!" Matt replied. I felt both sets of hands tighten their grips, and then with twin roars, both cocks unloaded their studly sperm into me.
"FUUUUUUUCK!"
"EAT THAT SHIT FAGGOT!"
I could feel both dicks pulsing, one deep in my ass, the other all the way down my throat. Matt's orgasm subsided sooner, and he pulled his cock from my throat. I took a huge breath in, and then slurped his slimy pole back into my mouth, enjoying the remnants of a nut that had gone directly into my stomach.
Behind me, Carson's hips were still twitching against my cheeks. He always busted huge loads, but I could tell this one was a doozy.
Both men panted heavily. I looked up and saw that at some point Matt had stripped off his hoodie. His beautiful chest, all sharp angles and hard muscles, heaved as he caught his breath.
I heard their hands smack above me: another Eiffel Tower.
"Fuck! That was intense," Matt said, pulling his cock from my mouth and dismounting the bed. Carson pulled his dick out of my well-used anal cavity. I let myself fall to the bed, exhausted from bracing my body throughout that incredible assault.
"Fuck yeah, bro." Carson threw an arm around Matt's shoulder and with his other hand smacked his chest companionably. Nutting seemed to have improved his mood. "You know what's mine is yours."
He snapped his fingers at me and pointed at his hard but deflating cock. I turned myself around, sat on the edge of the bed, and took him into my mouth, cleaning the lube and cum off of him. I hadn't had Carson's dick in my mouth in a month. It felt like coming home.
I looked up, and they were both watching me suckle Carson's softening dick, each still breathing heavy. Two incredible chests, one black, one white, both sweaty and perfect, rose and fell.
"You definitely got the biggest dick of any white boy I've ever seen," Matt said absently.
Carson pulled himself out of my mouth and smacked my face a few times.
"Jake's bigger," he said, almost reverently.
Matt laughed. He went into the bathroom and soon I heard the sound of piss hitting water.
Carson took a step back and pointed at the floor. I knelt between his legs and opened my mouth. Matt's piss ended, and just as I heard the toilet flush Carson's stream began, right into my open and abused throat. I gulped the acrid liquid down. He held his dick a few inches from my mouth, using me like a urinal. Matt walked back into the room and noticed.
"No need to go to the bathroom when there's a toilet right here!" Carson said, chuckling.
"Man, I dunno," Matt said skeptically. "That might be too far for me."
Carson pushed his dick into my mouth and I began swallowing straight from the tap.
"Whatever bro. It feels awesome to have the piss sucked out of your dick."
His stream died down. As usual, he pulled out and smacked away the last few drops onto my face.
"Thank you sir," I said, looking up at my master's beautiful body and face.
Carson smiled a little and patted the side of my face. "You're welcome."
He swan-dived into his bed bare-ass naked, tossing a pillow over his shoulder onto the ground. Matt had pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, his bulge still prominent. He looked down at his bedspread and scrunched up his nose. It was covered in lube and various bodily fluids. He stripped it off and tossed it on the floor. Apparently that was my bed for the evening.
Matt climbed into bed too and switched off the light between the beds. Lights out. I looked at the clock and saw it was after midnight. I found an outlet for my charger and plugged in my phone, then switched the last remaining light off.
I tiptoed through the darkness into the bathroom, locked the door, and sat on the toilet. Soon, a waterfall of hockey player cum was slipping from my asshole. I tested with a finger and found my sphincter swollen but not painful to the touch. I fingered myself lightly and brought one to my lips. The taste of Carson's load remained. Suddenly overcome with horniness, I pulled the jockstrap pouch to the side, fisted my dick maybe 6 times, and nutted all over my stomach, hard.
After I'd cleaned up and brushed my teeth, I quietly slipped back into the room and found my little patch of floor. As both boys snored in their queen beds, I swaddled myself in the sex-stained bedspread and, exhausted, soon fell asleep.
I awoke to total darkness, confused. A foot was kicking my side lightly. I looked up and saw Carson standing over me, naked. He nodded his head toward the bathroom. I pulled my covers off and stood up, my joints creaking. The clock read 4:53. I followed his huge naked form through the darkness into the bathroom.
He closed the door behind us and switched on the light. I rubbed my eyes at the sudden brightness. I felt a hand on my shoulder and fell to my knees. As my eyes adjusted I felt his soft dick at my lips, and instinctively opened my mouth. Soon, another piss load was streaming out. I kept my lips wrapped around his cock head and swallowed. I felt my dick stir in the jockstrap I still had on. In the months I'd been serving his frat god, I'd become almost as addicted to his piss as I was his cock and cum.
I watched Carson's face as he used me as his urinal. His eyes remained almost entirely closed as dudes tend to do when they use the bathroom in the middle of the night, trying to maintain slumber. A sleepy, satisfied look was on his face. When he finished, he pulled me up to my feet. He switched the light off, thankfully, and before opening the door, whispered in my ear.
"No loud flush with this toilet," he said, lightly smacking my cheek, a smile in his voice. "Now set an alarm for 8 and wake Matt up with some head."
With that, he quietly opened the door and padded back to bed. I found my phone, put it on vibrate, and set the alarm.
A few hours later, after more sleep, I woke to my phone vibrating. A little sun was peeking out around the edges of the blackout curtains. I propped myself up on my elbows and saw that both hockey studs were still asleep. Carson lay in a fetal position facing the bathroom wall, sheets tangled around his muscular naked body. Matt slept on his back, one arm behind his head, armpit deliciously exposed, the other resting on his chest.
This was lucky, as I had access to my target. Carson had told me to wake his roommate up with a BJ, and by God that's what I was gonna do.
Softly as I could, I climbed onto Matt's bed and slipped under his covers. His body heat enveloped me, as did a strong masculine scent. I found his groin and delicately slipped his boxer briefs under his nuts. I couldn't see anything, but with my mouth and face I could feel his cock lying floppy and a little sweaty over his big balls.
I took Matt's soft dick in my mouth and began to lightly suck. The goal of a wakeup blowjob, I'd learned, was to rouse your man as gently and pleasurably as possible. Once he's awake, you can go to town (or, more likely with these guys, he can), but until then, tread lightly.
The angle was a little awkward since I didn't want to put any weight on Matt's body, but I could tell my efforts were working as he began to inflate in my mouth. His cock grew steadily until it was as hard as I'd remembered from the throat-pounding I took last night.
Soon, I felt a hand on the back of my head guiding me up and down. Matt was awake. He didn't say anything, but I could tell from the way his breath had gotten more ragged that he was enjoying my service.
I sucked him for what seemed like ages, but I'm guessing it was about 30 minutes. Our position didn't change, and aside from a few soft appreciative grunts, the only evidence Matt was enjoying my efforts was the solidity of his hard-on and the stream of delicious precum issuing from his piss slit.
An alarm went off on someone's phone. I felt Matt's grip tighten and push me all the way down. His pubes tickled my nose, and I took the opportunity to stick out my tongue and lick his nuts. Matt rolled over, away from Carson's bed, and held me in place. I guessed he didn't want Carson to see that he had his dick down my throat.
The light clicked on between the beds.
"Mmmmmmmm," Carson groaned. "Enjoying the wake up call, bud?"
I felt Matt relax, and then begin to shake lightly with laughter. He rolled back onto his back and released his grip on my skull. I continued bobbing on his cock.
"This was you?" Matt asked.
"Man, I gotchu," Carson said with a huge yawn. "I know you gotta jerk off every morning. Figured I could do you one better."
Matt giggled. "You ain't never lied."
The sheet was pulled off me and I squinted at the sudden brightness. Still sucking, I looked up at Matt, past his incredible abs and rock hard pecs. A few days of scruff darkened his face, which held a lazy patina of lust. He nodded at me.
"You like that dick, dontcha bitch?"
"Yeth thir!" I said, my mouth stuffed. Both boys laughed.
"He's been going for a while," Matt said to Carson.
"Bet," my master replied. "If it was up to him he'd never stop."
I briefly made eye contact with Carson. The look on his face was clear: good boy, but don't forget you're mine.
Matt pulled me all the way onto his dick and began thrusting up into my throat. I gagged a little but braced myself and let the throatfuck happen. I suspected he was getting close.
"You want any?" he said absently to Carson.
"Nah, not on game day. I'ma shower."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carson's perfect naked form bound out of bed, soft dick swinging, phone and Bluetooth speaker in hand. I only got a quick glimpse of his pert ass before he disappeared into the bathroom.
I kept up my work on Matt. He seemed content to receive a nice sloppy blowjob, a real servicing, without any effort on his own part. I couldn't imagine a better way for either of us to start the day.
Music began blasting from the bathroom. Matt seemed to be slowly waking up more. His stomach rumbled a few times, a sound which is surprisingly loud when you've practically got your forehead pressed against it. I had a hand fondling his balls, and I could feel them begin to tighten.
Matt's dick slid in and out of my mouth. I brought a hand up and began stroking from the bottom of his wet shaft as I concentrated on the head, usually a certain way to bring a man to climax. Sure enough, within a minute Matt was letting out a series of grunts and groans as he blasted his load into my mouth. I wanted to taste it, so I let most of the nut stay in my mouth. Once he was done, still shivering with ecstasy, I looked up and opened my mouth, showing off his pool of babymakers before swallowing it all as seductively as I could. Matt seemed amused.
"Enjoy your breakfast, bitch," he said with a chuckle.
He grabbed his phone and began scrolling through it. I took the hint and got out of his bed. I sat in one of the armchairs and grabbed my own phone, checking emails and texts, trying to mind my own business and not cause any negative post-nut clarity.
The sounds of the shower turning on escaped through the bathroom walls. I heard Matt groan and let out a "fucker" under his breath. When I looked at him questioningly he rolled his eyes.
"Conway takes the longest fucking showers in the morning," he said.
He pulled up his boxer briefs and walked over to the bathroom door. It seemed Carson had locked it. In frustration, he pounded on it.
"Bro!" Matt called out. "I gotta take a leak!"
Between the shower itself and the music he was playing, I doubted Carson could hear anything. Matt pounded a few more times but nothing happened.
"Fuck!" he said to himself. Then he looked at me.
Matt walked over to me and loomed for a second, not saying anything.
"Can I help you, master?" I asked.
"How does it work?" he replied.
"How does what work?"
"I gotta piss, bitch, and that asshole's hogging the bathroom."
I dropped to my knees in front of him and fished his soft, floppy cock out. I held it right in front of my mouth.
"You just go," I said. "I'll do all the work."
With that, I put my lips around his head and waited. Nothing happened. I looked up at Matt. His eyes were closed. When he opened them and saw me looking up at him, he grimaced.
"Don't look at me."
I quickly averted my eyes and waited, breathing through my nose. I'd only ever engaged in piss play with Carson and Jake, who both clearly loved the dominance of it and knew what they were doing. I'd never dealt with a novice before, especially someone unsure he wanted to be doing this.
Still, nature called. His stream began, and it only increased from there. I gulped down Matt's morning piss like a man dying of thirst. He didn't hold back; the stream was strong, fast, and pungent, perhaps a bit sweeter than Carson but still, to my newly developed taste, delicious. I could feel the relief settling into him in more than one way, and when I risked a glance at his face I could see his mouth slightly agape in surprise.
When he finished, I suckled on his head for a moment, but he pulled away and stuffed himself back into his underwear.
A few minutes later, Carson emerged from the bathroom, steamy and naked. I watched in awe as he grabbed underwear out of his bag and got dressed, unable to look away. His body, even after all the times I'd seen it, still amazed me.
"Bathroom's all yours," he said to Matt, who was once again on his phone. He looked up ever so slightly.
"All good bro. I used the other one."
Carson's gaze snapped to me, a devilish grin on his face.
TO BE CONTINUED...
UP NEXT: The weekend of away games is only half over, but Teddy's adventure is just beginning...
Thanks for reading! This one was originally meant to be a single chapter, but it got way too long and intense so I split it in half. Part 2 will be next level ;)
If you enjoyed the story, have feedback, or have ideas for future chapters, I'd love to hear from you: elliottpatterson02@gmail.com