Article 5948 of alt.sex.motss: Path: usenet.ins.cwru.edu!gatech!emory!ogicse!reed!spdcc!joe >Newsgroups: alt.sex.motss,soc.motss Message-ID: 1993Jan18.185628.27609@spdcc.com Article-I.D.: spdcc.1993Jan18.185628.27609 Organization: S.P. Dyer Computer Consulting, Cambridge MA Lines: 123 Xref: usenet.ins.cwru.edu alt.sex.motss:2986 soc.motss:118838
The boys were all jacking off different ways - one gripping his cock very hard and jerking very fast, another very lightly, most of the boys were uncut, a few just had the faintest wisp of pubic hair. My friend moved to walk away, but the couch held his shoulder against the wall with his left hand, and told him he was "gonna get it." The boy jacking off the slowest, with a big torpedo-like cock whose foreskin never really pulled all the way back, started moving jerkily, and thick gobs of spitlike cum shot out against my friends leg. He was about to die of embarrasment. This shot was like a signal to the others, but suddenly they all heard a voice - "What the Hell is going on here".
Coach Crumley. 6'5", deep brown-red hair, busy sideburms, thick hair on his arms, wearing a thermal underwear shirt under a cutoff football jersy, and sweatpants. "You guys should just leave these damn band pussies alone. What you doin', jerkin' off on him? Sheeeit." The coach walked on into the shower room, staying well away from the spigots on the wall, "been look at them boys haven't you." Almost everyone had stopped jacking off, but their pricks were still standing up stiffly. Crumley said "Now I want yew bahways to let this heer band fag jack off with the big fellers. C'mon now, don't be shah." He folded his big arms across his chest. "Go on, git them wet clothes awf." My friend was nervous, but coach hicks took his hand off his shoulders, and he reluctantly pulled his shirt off. He was nervous about taking down his pants, but they all yelled at him to "come awn", so he dropped them.
They were all quiet for a moment. My friend's cock isn't that thick, but it is very long - the band used to tease him, and his nickname was footlong. It caused problems in the summer, when he wore shorts, so he got to wearing two jockstraps to keep everthing pulled in. And his balls - they were like big gooseggs, which didn't help matters none. The others stood silently looking at his big ole snake - it had poked down out of the side of his wet white jockey shorts, and lay against his leg, straining up with a big red shiny head at the tip. Coach Crumley said "wheeeeew eeee. Loookee at that peter. Got him one huh? No band pussies got a tallywhacker lak thaht". He pulled down his underwear, letting his cock snap up against his soft belly, he felt soggy next to these athletes who were lookin on him with new respect. Even Hicks grunted "lets get awh with it."
The boys each started jacking off, but more nervous that Crumley was there. He walked out, and they all started jacking off, and my friend put both hands around his cock, and jerked furiously. In a moment, he heard another noise, and Crumley had walked back in - he had just walked out to take off his clothes. He was more massive than he could have imagined - the thick reddish hair that matted his arms completely covered his square chest, except for the dark brown, almost black nipples. His belly was trim, but thick, and covered with more fur, as were his legs, and big meaty ass. His cock was an angry red color, and stupendously veined, and started thickening quickly as he pulled back the foreskin. The flaps of skin around it, laying like the folds of an accordion, started filling up, and soon it had curved up a bit to the left, and looked like it would hurt someone - it had to be at least 10-1/2 inches, maybe 11, who knows, more. His thick reddish bush started low below his belly, and covered maybe a few inches of the base of his cock too. He was just a huge hairy monster standing there in front of them. The other boys looked at Hicks, who was standing, glaring at Crumleys cock, and the short stubby fingers he couldn't even wrap around it, and they all started wanking off again. The coach and my friend stood opposite each other, and four guys on either side of them made a circle, and the coach laughed after a bit and said "Elma ain't gonna believe one bit uh theeus."
The two boy's immediately on my friend's sides had their eyes glued on his cock, and he couldn't decide which to stare at of theirs. The one on the left, a big, rough-boned senior, the one who had already come but was hard again was a real sight. He had big legs, covered with hair, but a strangely hairless torso. His pale pinkish skin was stretched tight across his taut heaving belly, his biceps flexing as he jerked his cock in a nervous rhythm, his small hard nipples like buttons on his boy/man chest, not quite filled out but powerful nonetheless; a hint of scent from his armpits told the story as he got more excited and sweat covered from the exertion. He gritted his teeth, patterns of flexion under the peachfuzz-covered skin of his jaw dancing. His own cock was the torpedo, one that couldn't be skinned back. The base was very, very thick, and like a highway road cone, it tapered to a point. Ivory white skin covered it, with delicate pink and blue traceries of bloodvessels. It was clearly the biggest of all the boy's cocks, in mass at least, and with his big-boned muscular hands around it, very succulent looking. He leaned over, embarrased, "Ah didn't meayun to be suh, y'now, suh meayun tuh y'all; Ah jess wants tuh know, kin I touch it?" With his free right hand, he reached over and stroked the top part of my friends cock, the part not even his two little hands could cover. "Sheeeeit, That's a long 'un", Coach Crumley said, watching the scene in front of him. The boy my friend's left also reached over and wrapped his hand around the shaft, then pulled quickly away.
That one was one of the linebackers. He was tremendously big, not so tall but wide - the kids called him "The Can". He had shaggy blond hair down to his shoulders in an ugly shag cut (called "Fag Shag Fag Shag" in the showers, 'till he put a few lights out), huge smooth arms, huge chest, pug nose, and a cock so fat he couldn't get his hand around it. Not so long, but with a head the size of a tennis ball, and a long long overhang. His cock was another reason he was called "The Can". He had a real long overhang, and he kept it pulled back as best he could, but the skin was very loose, and strangely brown in comparison with the rest of his body, which was freckled from summer sun. He jerked off with a funny sort of circular motion, big muscular legs set wide apart, leaning back slightly with his hips thrust forward. He didn't look at the others much, just sort of stared up straight at the ceiling, with his eyes closed in rapt concentration.
"Whose a-gonna shewt the furthest?" Crumley said. He was staring at Hicks now, who was staring back. Hicks beautiful cattle-prod was standing straight up and out, and he stopped jerking to sway his hips back and forth, letting the cock slap against him, and he grinned and said "Ah think Ah needs me someone tuh get it good'n'wet. Do big-dicked band pussies still like to kiss a guy's peter?" My friend's cock grew even harder with excitement. He found himself mesmerized by Hick's cock, and without thinking, he knelt down until he was right in front of it. The circle pulled in tighter, and he felt suddenly like he was in a forest of cocks.
He reached up.
[There. Lusher, fuller detail, and with a promise of even more frenzied debauchery]