*** What follows is a work of fiction. Richard Carter is based LOOSELY upon myself, and Jerry Lawrence is an amalgamation of two jocks I tutored for whom I had the hots. Some sexing does occur in this story, so if reading about such things is illegal where you live or is otherwise not your cup of tea, ask yourself why you're even reading this warning. ***
"My Tutor, My Treasure" by Russ A
To say Richard Carter was unpopular growing up would be an understatement; invisible would be a more fitting term. It never really mattered because he spent most of his waking hours reading. In high school, it irked him that athletes were allowed to coast through classes, riding the proverbial coat-tails of their more academically-minded peers. He refused to help jocks on principle, thus rendering himself a complete outcast.
When college application time came around, Richard applied to every out-of-state institution that caught his eye. He believed that there would be no difference in how they would pander to athletes, but he wanted to be somewhere where nobody would know him. Acceptance letters came in from over a dozen places; he picked a school known for its science program and got a full-ride scholarship on his academic merit. The first year was uneventful. In the first semester, he got on the honor roll, and in the second, he got on the Dean's List. Sophomore year kept him buried in books the first semester, but Richard pulled out another honor roll mention to the exclusion of supposedly important social obligations. There was one notice that caught his eye, when he came up for air.
The coach of the football team and his adviser had conspired to have him tutor one of the team's rising stars. While Richard believed "tutor" meant "do the work for" here, as it had in high school, a part of him gave them the benefit of the doubt. The notice said for him to meet with the coach at his office, so Rich loaded up his book bag and took a walk to the athletic department.
Coach Anderson's office was on the first floor and, when Carter got there, he appeared to be in a meeting with one of his football players. He knocked and, when the coach saw him, he said, "Perfect timin'. Jerry, this here's Richard Carter and he's gonna be your new tutor. Rich, this is Jerry Lawrence."
Jerry stood from his chair and faced Rich. It took everything he had not to rip off his clothes and shout, "Take me!" Carter knew early on where his carnal interests lay, but they were never called into question because his studiousness precluded any social contact. Jerry was a fine specimen of man; 6'4", thick black hair on his head with just a little bit of silver at the temples, a Roman nose, firm jaw and prominent chin with a dimple coated with stubble or a serious case of 5 o'clock shadow, broad chest and shoulders, sheer bulk that said he was not a man to be trifled with, and firm, hairy legs that stretched out the shorts he wore. That wasn't all that stretched out those shorts, though. He had apparently just come from a workout, because he had worked up a sweat, and his shirt and shorts were practically plastered to his body.
He held out a hand, smiled and said, "Good to meetcha, Richie. Sorry if I smell a little funky. So, you from the high school?" His voice was a rich tenor, and his teeth were perfect. Richard had to focus on a mathematical proof to keep from getting hard right there.
"No, I'm a sophomore."
"Get out! How old are ya?"
"I turn 19 this year. I skipped a grade and my birthday isn't until April."
"You must be some kinda genius, then."
Coach Anderson said, "That's why I'm puttin' him with you, Jerry. I ain't sayin' you're stupid, but you need to keep your grades up if you wanna stay on the team. This boy here could be your savin' grace."
Jerry nodded, taking the slight to his intelligence in stride. "Sure thing, Coach. So, Richie, when d'you wanna get started?"
"Well, my last class for today has been canceled, so I have time now." That was a lie. The class wasn't canceled, but he'd done the work in advance, so there was no reason for him to attend. He wanted to get this football stud alone.
"Great! You wanna meet at the library, or--"
"I live by myself off campus, on Myers Street."
"I know where that is. Which house?"
"Number 37."
"Okay. Lemme take a shower and get changed, and I'll see you there."
Jerry took off for the locker room. Richard was ready to leave but Coach stopped him.
"Hey, kid, listen. If, uh, if Jerry don't get it, what would it take for you to do the work for him? I could make it sweet for ya."
"How sweet?"
He shrugged. "We got a big surplus in the budget. I could start payin' your rent and call it a trainin' expense."
However disgusted Richard was that he had given these guys benefit of the doubt, he did have to consider the proposal. Rent wasn't much, and the job he had on the side covered it well enough, to say nothing of his scholarship, but it would be nice not to have to worry about it anymore.
"I'll think about it."
He mulled over the prospect as he walked, and since he wasn't focused on the journey, it took longer than normal. So much longer, in fact, that he hadn't even noticed Jerry was walking alongside him.
"Richie?" he said, as if he'd said it before with no response.
"Huh? Oh, hey, Jerry."
"You feelin' OK?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just thinking about something."
"A brain thing?"
He shook his head. "No, I-- it's not important. So, what subjects are giving you trouble?"
"Science 'n' math."
"If you don't mind my asking, what's your major?"
"Business, and I do pretty good in those classes."
"Your coach doesn't seem to think you're too bright."
Jerry shrugged.
Rich scratched his cheek as they arrived at his place. "He, uh, made me an offer."
"What kinda offer?"
It took 20 minutes for Carter to calm Jerry down after he'd explained, which gave him the opportunity to put his hands on him to stop him from charging out the door.
"That asshole!" he shouted. "There're guys on the team who'd lose a game of checkers to a bowl of puddin' with a wig! Why's he gotta pick on me?"
"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. You're here now, and anxious to prove yourself, so I'll do what I can to help you pass."
Jerry nodded, sitting down heavily on the couch. "You got anythin' to eat?"
"I have some steaks in the freezer."
"Really?" he said, his attention caught. "I was thinkin', like, a sandwich or somethin'."
"Come on. A big guy like you can't just have a sandwich."
Jerry grinned and said, "You want me to help?"
"No, I'll be fine. Just go through the books you brought and dog-ear the parts that are giving you trouble."
He nodded and went back into the living room, allowing Richard a look at his firm backside. By the time dinner was ready, he'd finished his task and brought the books with him to the table.
"Wow! Richie, you didn't hafta -- where'd ya -- wow!"
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to. Mom and Dad worked a lot, so it was either learn how to cook or blow money on pizza, take-out and microwave dinners."
Jerry sat down as his host pulled out a couple of sodas, handing him one and keeping the other. He took his knife and fork and cut into the meat.
"Medium-rare. Who toldja?"
"I guessed. It's how I like it."
When he took a bite, he looked at Rich and said, "You're my new best friend. Brains /and/ cookin' skills in one package. You must be swimmin' in friends."
He cut into his steak and said, "You're the first."
A forkful of potato fell back onto the plate. Then he laughed. "And you got a sense of humor, too!"
Richard looked at him, then back at his plate. Jerry stopped laughing.
"Y-you're serious?"
The host shrugged. "I was barely noticed by my folks, so I couldn't expect anyone else to notice me."
"Hey, man...I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
The rest of the dinner passed quietly, but for a few sounds of enjoyment from the football player. When dinner was over, he looked at the clock and said, "It's late and we ain't even cracked a book yet. I gotta get back."
"Why? It's Friday and you're not scheduled to run drills until Wednesday."
"Really? Howdja know that?"
"I saw it on Anderson's desk. But you're right. It /is/ late and I don't think we'll get anything accomplished tonight. Do you want to watch a movie?"
"Got any porn?"
Taken by surprise, Richard said, "Uh...yeah, actually, I do." His older brother had been "good" enough to pass his collection on to him once he had gotten married; he couldn't be having smut like that around his wife. She might think he was some kind of pervert. Richard had glanced at the titles and some of the images printed on the cases...and to be honest, he wouldn't have blamed her if she did think his brother a little pervy...or a lot.
Carter grabbed the box of filthy films from the top shelf where he kept it. "Here, have a look. Maybe you'll find something you like. I know I haven't."
"Then, why do you have 'em?"
He explained the situation. As Jerry dug through the box, his jaw dropped and his expression gradually became one of disgust. "Richie, no offense, but your brother's got problems."
"I'm glad someone else sees it. I would have said something at the wedding, but that would have been an embarrassment that ended with my family disowning me."
Jerry pushed the box aside. "Listen...um, this might sound kinda weird, and if you don't wanna do it, it's cool..."
"Yeah?"
"D'you think you could rub my back? I've been tryin' to get someone to do it, but all the guys're afraid of comin' off gay."
Richard kept his enthusiasm in check as he said, "Sure, what are friends for, right?"
Jerry grinned and took off his shirt. Richard had always been proud of the dark forest on his chest, but his guest's put his to shame. He trimmed it enough to highlight his musculature, his meaty pecs and firm stomach easy to make out through the rug of black hair on his torso. When he lifted his arms over his head, he revealed hairless pits and arms. A nick or two under the arms told Carter he shaved there, but his arms were too smooth for a razor to have done the job. His back, it appeared, was naturally hairless; Richard guessed everything that would have grown there got the message to come frontside.
The host took his guest's shoulders in his hands and started squeezing. He lolled his head forward and said, "I wish I'd got to know you sooner. You're a great guy, y'know? I mean, all you had to do was tutor me. You took me to your place, fed me dinner, and now you're massagin' me. 'S almost like a date."
Rick's heart stopped for a moment. Had he really gone through the motions of a date without thinking? Without having ever been on one himself?
"I wouldn't know. You know I haven't had any friends. How likely is it that I'd have gone on a date...ever?"
Jerry laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Hey, there's a spot on my back that's givin' me grief. Can you give that a good, hard rubbin'?"
"Sure, tell me where."
He guided Carter's hand with a series of ups and downs, lefts and rights. When he finally hit on the spot, the jock winced and nodded quickly.
"Jerry, I know this is a stupid question, but do you lift?"
"I gotta, for the team."
"Did you -- what's the phrase? -- max out recently?"
"Yeah! Howdja know?"
"I think you pulled a muscle."
When Richard pressed against the spot with a finger, Jerry shut his eyes tight. "It hurt when I set the barbell down, but Coach just said to walk it off."
"Your coach is an idiot if he doesn't understand basic sports medicine. Hell, look at me! I'm a nerd with no sports training whatsoever, and /I/ could figure out what's wrong."
"What do I gotta do?"
This was a dilemma. On the one hand, Richard could take advantage and bring himself closer physically than he could have dreamed possible on the pretense of making his pain go away. On the other hand, to do so could be a violation of the trust he'd managed to build in a matter of hours.
He said, "I have to massage it."
"But--"
"It hurts, yes, but that it's been left untreated this long is bad enough." He scooted closer and continued, "I need to keep you upright, but for you to do so yourself might make the problem worse." Rick sighed and said, "I need to put my hand on your chest while I rub that spot."
To his surprise and relief, Jerry nodded. "Whatever you gotta do, Richie. Just make it stop." He sounded so vulnerable there, Rich just wanted to hug him. He scooted closer, spreading his legs a little -- dangerous, given that he had lust unlike anything he'd ever known coursing through his loins -- and slid his hand under the nearest beefy, hairless arm to his chest. As it rested over his heart, Carter could feel it beating, slow and even; Jerry didn't mind this closeness.
The palm of his other hand pressed against the pulled muscle and started working slowly, gently. The football player was in pain enough, so Rick saw no point in making him worse before making him better.
"For someone in your position, you're awfully calm about letting a guy you've known for all of half a day touch you like this."
Jerry said, "You're a friend. You're treatin' me better than any other friend I've had, though. They all want me to get drunk with 'em, get high with 'em, chase girls with 'em. I mean, they all get weird about the fact that we gotta shower together, like none of 'em ever went to camp or nothin'. We're all guys; we all got our own muscles and cocks, so what's the big deal about seein' someone else's?"
"That's...a refreshingly open-minded take," the host said, balling his hand into a fist to rub the pained spot further.
"We're all slammin' into each other on the field and grabbin' at each other and swattin' asses when we make a good play..."
"But they don't want to be caught giving each other massages, with or without shirts."
Jerry nodded. "They want their girlfriends do it."
"And you...don't have a girlfriend willing to do these things for you?"
"I had a girl, but she turned out to be a bitch. Practice and away games kept me from keepin' too many dates with her, and missin' a dinner one night was the last straw. She kicked me out, broke half my stuff and started all sorts of lies about me. Sayin' I had some VD, that I hit her, that I didn't let her see her friends, all that shit."
Jerry sighed and hung his head. Richard didn't know what to say, so he went with his gut.
"Nobody deserves to go through what you have. I'll admit, at first, I wasn't too pleased with the plan that your coach and my adviser came up with for me to tutor you. Guys like you got a free pass at my high school and I refused to help them. It made me more unpopular than I already was. Life since I started here has been refreshing, and meeting a football player like you is just more proof of it. You /want/ to do well, you /want/ to learn; no -- no jock I've known before ever had that drive. Look how pissed off you were at the coach's suggestion that I do your work for you. Any other jock I'd known before would have jumped at that chance and threatened to beat me senseless if I didn't.
"You're a good man, Jerry. Your heart's in the right place, and so is your head. You don't drink, you don't smoke or do drugs, and you're not a skirt-chaser. Your duties are to the team and your schoolwork above anything else. Anyone who doesn't understand that is just being selfish. Anyone should be so lucky to have a guy like you."
"You mean that?"
"Of course I do."
Jerry leaned back, looking Richard in the eyes. The guest's eyes were blue, but had a few flecks of brown in them. He smiled, then wrapped his arms around Richard's head and pulled him down, wrestling a little. The fact that his head was buried against the hairy chest would have given Rick a major erection if it weren't for the fact that he was still concerned for his friend.
"Jer! Your back! Careful!"
"Hey, you've made my back feel a hell of a lot better than it has in days. 'Sides, if you kept that up, I'd think you were gettin' all mushy on -- hey, you expectin' anyone?"
Richard looked up; someone had pulled up to his driveway.
"Uh, no, I'm not. Here, put your shirt back on. I'll go see."
Carter got off the couch and left the living room through the front door. Jerry put his shirt back on and remained on the couch, listening.
Richard: Can I help you? Man 1: You Dick Carter? Richard: Richard. Yes, I am. Man 2: You know Jer? Richard: Jerry Lawrence? Yes, I'm his tutor. Man 1: Get /him/! Ol' Hairy Hooknose gets some pretty-boy tutor. Man 2: You know where he is? We were s'posed to go out drinkin' tonight. Richard: It's my understanding that, during the season, you're not supposed to drink. Man 1: And it ain't the place for a queer like you to tell us what we can and can't do. You know where he is or what? Richard: Yes. Man 2: You gonna fuckin' tell us? Richard: If you apologize for calling me a queer. Man 1: It's true, ain't it? Richard: You guys can go fuck yourselves. Now get off my property before I call the cops. Man 2: Where's Jer?? Richard: On my couch; I was massaging a muscle he pulled a day or two ago. Now -- hey! Let -- thump Richard: Nngh! wheeze Man 1: Not so tough now, are ya, faggot? Tryin' to queer up our buddy...this'll fuckin' teach you...
Disregarding any residual pain he felt, Jerry leaped from the couch and ran out the door to see two linebackers kicking Richard, who had curled up on the ground in a defensive position. Blows to his back caused him to uncurl for a moment, exposing his midsection to blows.
"What the FUCK do you guys think you're doin'?!"
"Beatin' this homo up for tryin' to turn you. He as good as confessed. You want a crack at him?"
Jerry looked down at Richard. He'd been kicked in the stomach so many times, he'd had the wind knocked out of him and couldn't cry out as much as he wanted to, or needed to. His nose was dripping with blood and the muddy imprint of a shoe covered his mouth.
"Is it true, Richie? Are ya gay?"
He nodded, for once unable to look at his friend.
"And...were ya tryin' to turn me?"
Frantically, Richard shook his head, which only served to infuriate his aggressors.
"Lyin' little butt-pirate! I'll--"
"Scram."
"Wha?"
"You heard me. Beat it. I'll deal with him myself."
The linebackers looked at Richard with nasty grins and nodded. "Tell us what you're gonna do."
"Too many witnesses around here. Someone might've seen you guys already. Go on back to the dorms."
They looked around and saw a few lights on in several homes nearby.
Linebacker 1 said, "Shit, you're right! OK, we'll go, but he's gonna get what he deserves, ain't he, Jer?"
"Yeah, he is."
A kick to the head from Linebacker 2 knocked Richard unconscious.
"Hey! Get outta here!" Jerry said.
Satisfied, the two linebackers got into the car in which they had come and drove off toward the campus. Once they were out of sight, Jerry moved Richard onto the wet grass and shook his head.
"Fucker," he whispered.
When he heard a police siren, he darted out into the street and started waving his arms. The car pulled into the drive and turned off their lights. An officer emerged from the vehicle and recognized Jerry on the spot; it was a small town and college games were a source of pride.
Then he noticed Richard. "Jesus Christ, what happened here? Wally, call a medic!"
Photos were snapped, statements were taken, and around midnight, Jerry and Richard were alone again; the two aggressors had been taken into custody on Jerry's statement and identification. The host had opted to take a shower to ease the pain and rinse away anything that the medics had failed to clean up. It was a long shower, so he was surprised to find his guest standing at the door, waiting for him.
"You holdin' up OK?"
"What do you care?"
"Don't snap at me for what my teammates did!"
Richard laughed bitterly. "Some team. The way they expected you to join in, it makes me think you've done what they did before. This is what I get for believing that you would be any different than any other jock."
"What makes you think I'm not?"
"Give me one good reason to believe that."
Jerry took hold of Richard gingerly and gave him a kiss. Maybe it was the painkillers talking, but he could swear that he felt a tongue grazing against his lips.
"Good enough for you?"
Richard squinted at the athlete, as though trying to focus on a pinprick of a spot on his forehead. "Outside, when the first guy--"
"Louie."
"When Louie asked if I was going to get what I deserved, you said yes."
Jerry sat and Richard followed, leaning back against a pillow.
"Before I pulled you down, y'know, all that stuff you were sayin'...no one's ever said stuff like that to me. No one ever had high expectations, no one ever told me I was doin' good by bein' me, no one ever as good as told me I'm a catch. No one's never seen me as just a jock before. Richie, you make me feel good."
He put his hand on Richard's cheek and said, "I don't know if you turned me or if I was always like this, but...I wanna be your boyfriend."
"Either I was given too much codeine, or you just said..."
"I wanna be your boyfriend."
Richard rubbed his head. "That's what I thought you said."
"You feelin' OK?" Jerry said, waving his hand over Richard's body.
"Yeah, I've always been a fast healer."
Jerry moved a little closer. "Wouldn't have figured you for a fighter."
"You're right. I was a punching bag, but I built up a tolerance for ass-kickings."
The football player took off his friend's shirt. "Hey, you are hairy after all! I thought that was dirt on your stomach."
"Oh, thanks a bunch!"
Jerry took his shirt off again and pulled Richard closer, looking at the bruises. He noticed they were already starting to look a little better than they had even a few hours ago. He looped his arms around Rick's middle and pulled him close enough to brush his back with his thick forest of torso hair.
"What do you think is going to happen to Louie and what's-his-name?"
"Kev. I'unno. And I don't care." He brushed his cheek alongside Richard's and took a deep breath. "God, this...this feels weird."
"Well, I don't--"
"No, no, weird in a good way. It's like...I wanna squeeze ya and hold ya tight, but you're, y'know, still hurt an' I don't wanna hurt ya more."
"Then, let's go to my bedroom and I can show you how much I appreciate your tenderness."
Before Richard could even make a move to get up, Jerry lifted him up and carried him down the hall like a groom would carry his bride to the honeymoon suite.
Richard laughed, "Come on, you big dope, put me down! I'm perfectly capable of walking, and you shouldn't be straining your back like this."
Jerry wouldn't hear of it. He set Richard on the bed and laid on it beside him. "You, uh, want me to take off my sweats?"
He swallowed. "Would you let me?" he asked, reaching for the waistband.
Jerry withdrew his hands and put them behind his head. Rich reached for the waist of the sweats and pulled them down slowly, revealing a long, flaccid cock with a droopy foreskin, and a sac that looked for all the world like it held a pair of tennis balls.
"Jesus, Jer. You must get your cups on special order."
He laughed and said, "The first girl I was with here wanted to measure it. She called it 'The Slurpee' afterwards."
Rick put his hand against the soft member and estimated it was about seven inches. He didn't need to see it hard to figure out where the nickname came from.
"Richie?" Jerry whispered. "Did you want it when we met in Coach's office?"
"I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever seen before I got past your chest. But...well, what could I say there? For all I knew, you'd beat me to a pulp if you found out or threaten to out me if I didn't do things for you."
Jerry's mouth hung open. "Shit, dude. You mean that's happened to you?"
"No, but it had to other gay guys I knew. That's part of the reason why I never helped a jock. If I was going to be unpopular, I wanted it to be on my terms, not theirs."
"But you know I'm different."
"I do now. Jer-Bear, you could be half as big as you are down there, and it wouldn't make any difference to me. The physical attraction is great and all, but looks won't last forever. You're one of the best guys I could want to know, and that's what gets me really hot for you."
Jerry laughed. "That's bullshit!"
"You're right. You're one sexy man, but you're not an asshole about it. You're not intentionally intimidating. That weapon of ass destruction you have there, though...could she take it?"
"Nobody's been able to yet."
"I'll have to take care with it, then." The host kissed his guest tenderly, keeping the lips together for the moment. Eventually, he parted them; Jerry picked up on the opening and thrust his tongue inside. Rich pulled back.
"Easy, Jer, this isn't a race."
He nodded in understanding. Rich leaned in for the kiss again, his mouth slightly open once more. He initiated the tongue this time, rubbing it over Jerry's lips and teeth before letting it touch his tongue. The athlete pushed his tongue forward, rubbing it along the one pushing into his mouth. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, taking hold of Richard's.
When Richard pulled away again, he nodded. "Very good." He leaned down to lick and nibble that thick neck, which was itself coated in stubble. The sensation was unlike anything he'd felt before, but he found it pleasant all the same. Jerry wasn't sure how to take it; no girl he'd been with had ever paid attention to his neck before. All they ever wanted were his muscles or his cock. Suddenly, he felt a stirring between his legs. A part of him was enjoying this. Maybe it was the way Rick's eager hands were running through the thick hair on his chest, tugging at it and rubbing the firm, pillowy pecs while he lavished such affection on his neck.
"Hey, Richie, couldja -- oh, yeah..."
He knew what Jerry was asking for; his nipples were just begging to be squeezed. They were like eraser heads when he had first pulled his shirt off, but now that he was getting into things, they had swollen to the size of fresh blueberries. Richard set his teeth in one, his index finger and thumb rolling and squeezing the other. The flesh was firm and tasted faintly of sweat; the jock squirmed beneath the nerd, unable to control his urges any longer. Jerry grabbed Rich's ass and started thrusting along the crack between the cheeks from underneath.
Richard again pulled back, coming to Jerry's head to kiss his forehead. "Hey, hey, calm down, big boy. I didn't know your nipples were so tightly wired to your cock."
As Jerry relaxed, he said, "Sorry, I--I shoulda toldja. I like it when my nips get played with, just makes me get all crazy." His face became serious as he asked, "I didn't hurtcha, did I?"
The smaller student shook his head. "No, and even if you had, I would have known you didn't mean it." He turned around and saw the thick tool, its skin bunched under the bulbous head. "If we're boyfriend and boyfriend now, there will be world enough and time for us to be romantic."
"'Had we but world enough 'n' time / This coyness, lady, were no crime / We'd siddown and think which way / To walk 'n' pass our long love's day.'"
Richard stared at Jerry in disbelief.
"I like poetry. It's not somethin' I let get around much."
The nerd brushed his hand over the jock's forehead, moving some of his hair out of the way. It was too dark to make out the finer details of his face, but Richard didn't need light. Every contour of his face was burned into his mind and he could see the blue in his eyes as though every light in the house were on.
"You got any secrets?"
"Besides my being gay? Being named 'Dick Carter' wasn't enough of a reason to get my ass kicked at school. My folks thought I should be really popular and learn how to play the cello."
"I--I wanna hear you play."
"Later. I think I should make a stop at the 7-11."
Richard stood up on the bed and eased out of his sweats. He was already hard and had been for a while, and if the dampness at the crotch was anything to go by, he was a leaker. Jerry saw the sweats go off to the side and looked back up at his friend. He was no athlete, but he knew enough to keep himself in decent shape. He didn't get a whole lot of sun, which made his dark hair stand out even more. His respectable 7.5" cock stood proud with a slight upward curve over a sac that looked to contain a pair of jumbo chicken eggs.
"You cut?"
"Hmm? Oh, you mean circumcised. Yes."
"Never seen one before. All the guys on the team're uncut. Seen 'em hangin' loose in the showers and even caught a couple of 'em jerkin' off..."
"You ever do anything like that? Jerk off in front of other guys?" Richard asked, getting back down on the bed, between Jerry's legs.
"Pumped out a blue-ball load in the shower once or twice when I wasn't gettin' any. Did a circle jerk with the guys once. Last one to cum had to kiss the cock of the first guy to cum. First time I ever had another guy's lips on my cock."
"They're a bunch of hypocrites, then," Rick said, lifting Jerry's legs onto his shoulders. He turned his head to kiss and lick and bite at the firm muscle under the hairy skin of his thighs. The inner thighs, he had learned, were sensitive to any attention, and Jerry was proving that most admirably, twitching and groaning.
"You sure you never done this before?"
"I've seen enough guy-on-guy porn to get a good idea of the basics."
"But -- y'know -- I ain't exactly a small guy to start on."
Richard said nothing, leaning forward to lick at the heavy nuts in their furry sac. He even managed to open his mouth wide enough to take one in entirely, sucking on it, tugging on it, washing it clean of sweat and dried urine with his tongue.
All Jerry could do was grip the sheets and cry out, "Dude! How the fuck?!"
Rick popped the nut out of his mouth and rubbed his jaw. "Practice. Like anything else. I practically grew up on jawbreakers." He then started in on the other nut, giving it much the same treatment as the first. Again, Jerry was at the mercy of his friend's mouth. No girl had even been willing to do anything with his nuts besides give them a little tickling.
The nerd dislodged the other nut from his mouth and rubbed his jaw again. "I'm going to have to get used to your size there, Jer-Bear." The only experience he'd had with a cock was his own; when he took hold of Jerry's, the skin felt thicker, the veins much more pronounced. It was also one of the few places on his body that was not covered with hair. Richard started mouthing around the base, getting the whole thing wet from the bottom up, stroking what he wasn't licking. He could see Jerry being rough on his nipples and could hear the moans he was making.
When he finally got to the head, Rick stretched the skin forward, covering all but maybe an inch of his man's tool. He stuck his tongue under the skin and moved it around, eliciting a strong tremble from the burly athlete. He knew that Jerry had showered today, but he had gone to the bathroom since coming, and the piquant flavor of dried urine remained trapped in the skin. When he had cleaned all there was to clean, he pushed the skin down and began working swallowing that prodigious pole to the base.
Jerry was in heaven. He'd never been treated to a session like this before. Usually it went strip, thrust, spurt, spank, snore. He had never attempted anything more because 1) it worked and 2) there was never any incentive to try. Here, a guy -- a guy! -- he had known for less than a day had done more for him than any girl he'd ever dated would do in a week or longer.
When the football player looked down at his friend -- his boyfriend -- he saw his nose buried in his pubes. "How the hell can ya do that on the first try?" he said through heavy breaths.
He patted Jerry's stomach and spelled out something on it with his finger.
"'Dildo'? You practice with fake dicks?"
Rick nodded, rubbing those heavy nuts and sliding his hands down to the hairy ass below, squeezing the cheeks like he hoped to get juice from them.
"You shove 'em up your butt, too?"
Rick shook his head.
"You use different ones?"
He nodded.
"You can take me in your mouth...no girl's ever even tried that on me. You think...you can take me up the butt?"
Slowly, Rick pulled back, the 11-inch shaft glistening in the moonlight as he pulled off completely. "I'd like to try, but not tonight. Let me ease some of the tension you've got down here," he said, rubbing under the furry sac his boyfriend sported. He stroked that cock awhile and eventually asked, "Would you let me do something to you?"
Jerry said, "You got me by the legs and the cock. Couldn't really stop ya if I tried."
"I just -- I want to be sure."
"Lemme down."
He did. Jerry leaned over and eased Richard against the bed. He spent a good minute staring into the smaller man's eyes, and all he did was smile. "You an' me...it feels right. I never felt like this with any chick an'...you make me happy, Richie. I wanna make you happy, too. You've had it rougher than me, and you don't deserve the shit you've been dealin' with. Whatever you want to do to me or you want me to do to you, just tell me."
"I want you to try taking my cock in your mouth."
Jerry's eyebrows furrowed a little, but Richard remained resolute, looking him in the eyes. If he nothing to fear from his athlete, this would be the proof.
"I--I never done it before."
"You've never been with a guy like this before, period. I don't expect you to know how to suck me off or anything. All I want to know is that you're willing to at least try to return some of the physical affection I'm showing you."
The bearish football player rolled over and looked down at his friend's drooling cock and said, "You spring a leak or what?"
"I always get like that when I'm /really/ excited."
Jerry got between Richard's legs and looked at the cock in front of him blankly. He didn't even know where to start, so he figured he would imitate what his friend did, since it worked so well on him. He crawled forward and lifted Rick's legs onto his shoulders and took the hairy sac into his mouth in one go, sucking and licking on it while rubbing his man's hips. As a college football player, he'd been dared to do a lot of stupid things, particularly holding things in his mouth; this was far from the worst thing he'd ever had in his mouth, and he found that the fluid that had drooled onto those balls had kind of a sweet taste. The flavor of the flesh, the sweat and the pre altogether reminded him a little bit of kettle corn.
Richard was shocked that Jerry went for his balls at all, but to have both of them in his mouth at once was something else entirely. He took a few deep breaths and tried to steady himself. For a couple of virgins to this sort of activity, they were both hitting all the right buttons with each other. In his eagerness to please, Jerry started sucking harder. Richard grabbed the sheets and groaned.
"Easy, easy! Don't suck them off of me!"
He put on an "Aw, shucks" face and said, "Sorry, Richie." He moved his head forward and licked all that pre-seminal fluid from and around his cock before taking the head into his mouth. He kept his eyes closed and ran his tongue over the curved surface. Still, not the worst thing he'd ever had in his mouth, but at least with the balls, he could pretend they were eggs.
When he felt Richard's hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes.
"Hey, it's okay." At Jerry's confused expression, he continued, "I only wanted to know if you'd try. You're still getting used to these feelings and I'm sure having my cock in your mouth isn't making things easy for you. That you'd be willing to set aside your inhibitions for this long means a lot to me." He guided Jerry's head off and said, "So, you're not into sucking dick. That's fine. We've got plenty of time to find something which you're comfortable with."
"Dude, I--"
Richard cut Jerry off with a kiss, something with which he had no complaint. When the kiss broke, Rick said, "You trusted me enough to come here, to put my hands on you; you saved me from your teammates--"
"But, I didn't--"
"You could have joined them, and you didn't. You could have ignored their actions, but you didn't. You could have covered up for them, and you didn't. Injuries heal, Jer-Bear, but that you stood up for me in the face of your former buddies makes me feel better than the painkillers did. You have put aside so much, outwardly changed so much since we met that you were willing to put my dick in your mouth to show me that you care. Jerry Lawrence...I think I love you."
"Dude...I..." He looked lost. He didn't know what to say. He glanced around for something to break the silence and his eyes landed on Rick's cock. He stared at it for a second or two, then looked into his eyes. "Lemme try again."
As he moved to get back into position, Richard said, "Jer, you don't have to."
"I want to. How can I refuse the man who loves me best?"
Jerry reached up and eased Richard back against the mattress. The second attempt was easier and, this time, he kept his eyes open, focused on the face of his lover. Little by little, he worked his way down the shaft until his chin rested on his friend's balls and his nose was buried in pubes. Richard wasn't quite as thick as he was, so he had to wonder just how the smaller guy had managed to take all of his meat without hurting himself, but that thought quickly flew from his mind when he heard Rick say, "Fuck, I'm close..."
To his surprise, Jerry kept his head there, bobbing and sucking like he'd been doing it for years. Rich grabbed at the sheets and shut his eyes so tight, he was seeing stars. He trembled and curled his toes when the climax approached, and when he was ready to pop his cork, the athlete pulled his head back, leaving only the head in his mouth. One final flick of the tongue was all it took for Richard to pump out about a dozen thick jets of cum onto the eager muscle that teased him so. Richard couldn't see Jerry's reaction, but felt his tongue move in the familiar swallowing motion.
He asked, dazed, "Do you want me to take you all the way like I did before?"
Jerry repositioned himself and just put the head in his lover's mouth. "I hope you can swallow fast, Richie, 'cause I ain't had any in days." He could feel Richard already starting to suck and swallow. His balls were so tight against the base of his cock that they practically defied gravity in this position he had taken. He reached down and started tugging on his nipples like he was trying to remove them from his body. The first few shots filled Rick's mouth, puffing out his cheeks, but to his credit, he kept in every drop, swallowing as though dying of thirst. Every shot that followed lingered on his tongue for a brief moment before getting chugged with the rest.
When he had nothing more to give, and there was quite a bit of it, Jerry collapsed onto his back, reaching down to give himself a fondle. Already his cock was going soft, and his instincts were telling him to roll over and just go to bed. When he was able to handle it, he sat up and looked at his new boyfriend, then laid beside him with a smile.
"Richie?"
"Yeah, Jer-Bear?"
"I think I love you, too."
When morning came, Richard woke up to find himself alone. He rubbed his head and was groggier than he would normally be on a weekend.
"Was it all a dream?" he asked himself. When he found the fading bruises, he laid back down and hugged the covers around himself, looking at the bookshelf as though it could answer the myriad questions running through his mind.
He heard a clang from another room and grabbed his sweats, putting them on in a hurry to investigate. He grabbed the nearest heavy thing he could find -- a dictionary, as it happened -- and carried it with him as he walked toward the sound. It became obvious that he was hearing pans clattering against each other and when he rounded the corner, he found Jerry looking for something.
"The frying pan is in the dishwasher; it should be clean."
He turned around and said, "Hey, sleepyhead. Howdja sleep?"
"I slept like a baby on a bearskin rug," he said, rubbing Jerry's chest. "What's all this?"
"I wanted to surprise you with breakfast, so I got some things from the store and I was just about to start cookin' when you surprised me."
"Well, as much as I like to see you naked, cooking without clothes on is dangerous and unsanitary. Let me get a shirt on and I'll cook."
As he returned to the bedroom, his lover followed. "There's, uh, somethin' else, Richie."
"What's that?"
"I quit the team."
"You did /what/? Jer, why?"
"I don't need to be hangin' around guys like that. I don't need to hurt myself to be a big shot. Richie, last night, you showed me how to suck cock. If you can teach me /that/, you can teach me /anything/!"
"But you'll do the work yourself."
"Damn right I will. But Richie, it's more than that. You make me /happy/. So happy that I'm willin' to give up football to make /you/ happy."
Epilogue: Jerry and Richard graduated two years later -- Richard, summa cum laude, and Jerry, magna cum laude. Jerry's parents were, frankly, stunned that their son was "a gay", but when they saw how happy he was and everything that Richard had done for him, the relationship was given their blessing. Richard, who didn't give a damn what his parents thought, never bothered to tell them. They married in San Francisco during the brief time available to them, and have been living happily together ever since.
Comments and questions can be sent to russarulo@yahoo.com, and you can check out some of my other writing at http://www.furaffinity.net/user/RussArulo