"Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear" is a 45- chapter novel in which a certain bearish college football player/ frat boy recalls his many sexual adventures and encounters.
All of fratbear's stories are available at: http://www.geocities.com/fratcub/
"Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear" by fratbear (fratbear@excite.com)
Chapter 30: Home Game
"Do I really look that dumb when I'm getting fucked?" I asked Mitch as I watched myself on the television screen.
"Hey, I've been using this as jerk-off material all summer," he replied.
Okay, let's get something straight here. Mitch Cohen was a big dope. Big dopey smile. Big dopey body. A dopey mop of hair. A dopey perpetual three-day stubble, He even dressed like a dope. But no doubt about it, he was one lovable dope.
If Mitch weren't the back-up quarterback on our football team, he probably would've never made it through college. He would've been dismissed as an oaf, and with his lack of social graces or skills, he would've spent most of his days and nights locked in his dorm room surfing the Internet and whacking off.
But since by some quirk of fate he WAS the back-up quarterback, he ended up becoming yet another big man on campus. Frankly, he was probably the most out-of-shape quarterback I've ever seen. He wasn't that bright nor was he very quick, primarily because of his burgeoning beer-belly. But the boy could throw. His right arm was one hell of a rocket launcher.
I'd never paid too much attention to Mitch. A simple exchange of greetings during practice, a word of encouragement on the field, or maybe an occasional furtive glance in the showers. I'd never considered him a major prospect sexually, although I wouldn't have minded if he'd suddenly grabbed my crotch one day in the locker room.
Still, it came as a big surprise when Mitch actually DID come up to me and suddenly grabbed my crotch in the locker room after practice one afternoon.
"Hey, what gives?" I whispered loudly, looking around to see if anyone else was watching.
Mitch just flashed me that stupid, I'm-a-big-dope grin. "Sorry, Big Daddy." Some of my teammates had taken to calling me by my fraternity nickname ever since they learned about it from my Delt brothers Buckey and Parker. "My throwing hand just seems to have a mind of its own, y'know?"
"Yeah," I just mumbled, somewhat suspicious. After all, from what I could observe, this was very un-Mitch-like behavior. More playful and not nearly as oafish as usual.
"Hey, Big Daddy," he remarked casually as we dressed. "You think you could stop by my place later? I got something I wanna show you."
I shrugged. "Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Cool." Mitch gathered up his things to leave, "Alpha Kappa. Room 201. Come by after dinner."
As I walked up to the Alpha House that evening, I kept going over Mitch's strange behavior in my head. Why the mysterious invitation? What did he want to show me? My numerous experiences had conditioned me to conclude that Mitch was probably another closet case who wanted me introduce him to the joys of gay sex. And I was getting a hard-on just thinking about the prospect of sex with Mitch. Still, I couldn't get past the weirdness of it all.
When Mitch opened his door, he greeted me dressed in a pair of baggy sweatshorts and apparently nothing else. My eyes were immediately drawn to his hairy, tanned chest, which glistened with a thin layer of sweat. It looked like he'd been working out.
"Hey, there, Big Daddy." He grinned as he opened the door to let me into his room, and my focus shifted to his welcoming eyes. "Hope you don't mind the mess."
Mitch's room was pretty much the disaster area I'd imagined. Dirty clothes strewn about the room. A pair of boxers even lay atop a TV set on a dresser. Textbooks and papers were scattered on the desk and floor. Posters of football stars plastered the wall. A pair of dumbbells on the floor confirmed my suspicion that he'd been lifting weights before my arrival.
"So what'd you want, Mitch?" I asked as he closed the door. The room smelled like mine, like a dirty football player.
"Okay," he started, taking a deep, anxious breath. "Now, I'm gonna tell you something, and I'm probably gonna sound like a moron, so you're probably gonna laugh your ass off. But I think I can tell you."
"I won't laugh, Mitch," I replied. "I promise. But before you go on, are you about to tell me you're gay?"
Mitch looked taken aback, then relieved. "Well, yeah," he finally answered. "But, there's more."
"Then you probably know I'm gay, too," I said.
He nodded. "But that's not what I wanted to tell you." He paused and cleared his throat. "I wanted you to know that... well, I think I'm in love with you."
If I didn't weigh 300 pounds, I probably would've been floored by this, but at the very least I felt my heart rate speeding up. And I suddenly felt really, really stupid. All I could manage to utter was a simple, non-committal single word: "Cool."
Mitch, on the other hand, was breathing a deep sigh of relief. His whole body, which had been tensed, was suddenly relaxed. "There, I said it. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you last year."
I started to regain my senses. "Well, I'm flattered," I finally replied. "But you said you had something to show me."
Mitch looked nervous again. "Yeah, well, don't get angry when I show you this, but I think you'd agree you would've done the same thing in my position."
He went over to the TV and turned it on. I saw that he had a camcorder hooked up to the TV. He pressed "play" on the camera, and a tape began to play on the screen.
And I was suddenly on the screen. In all my naked glory, my hands clutching a window sill as a faint image of my former roommate Justin fucked me doggy-style. I watched my own face going through the contortions of great sex. There was no sound. The camera was too far away from the actual event to pick up sound. I soon realized that Mitch had been videotaping me and Justin through my open window that day that when we'd had our good-bye fuck.
Seeing me getting fucked on TV caused my dick to harden almost instantly, but I decided to lighten the moment with a bit of self-deprecating humor.
"Do I really look that dumb when I'm getting fucked?" I asked. I glanced over at Mitch and saw his erection poking against his shorts.
"Hey, I've been using this as jerk-off material all summer," he shot back. "You know how I relieved to see that you were gay, too? I've been fantasizing about you for months, trying to figure out exactly when to make a move."
I answered him in the simplest way I could think. I grabbed him and kissed him as the tape of me getting fucked played on the TV. I slipped my hands down his shorts and prodded his asshole with my finger. Mitch moaned, and I knew that he wanted to get fucked. And, more importantly, he wanted to get fucked now.
I pushed him onto his bed on his stomach and yanked off his shorts. "Yeah, fuck me, Big Daddy," he growled.
We were so eager to fuck that I didn't even bother undressing. I just unbuckled my pants and pulled them down around my knees. I crawled on top of his sprawled, doughy body as I positioned my dickhead against his asshole.
"Uh, yeah!" Mitch cried out as I rammed my cock up his ass. I could tell that it was painful for him, but he didn't seem to care. He wanted it too bad to complain. "Give it to me, Big Daddy."
I humped him smoothly and rhythmically, the muscles of his asshole loosening up gradually to accept my invading shaft. With each thrust, the bed bumped against the wall, and I hoped that Mitch's frat brother next door wasn't in his room.
Mitch didn't seem to care, though, lost in the passion of the moment. He grunted out jagged phrases between his clenched teeth. "Uh. Fuck me. Fuck my ass. Come on."
I liked the way Mitch's body felt beneath me, soft and relaxed. Submissive, yet enjoying every second of it. As I continued fucking him, I managed to get my shirt off, allowing me press my fuzzy chest against the bare skin of his back. I kissed neck and ear, whispering to him, "Yeah, this is what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Mitch gasped in reply. "I want you, Sloan." I guess he decided to use my real name now that we'd gotten intimate.
I pressed my face against his, his stubble scratching my cheek as I pounded his ass harder. "I'm gonna cum," I whispered to him. "You want me to shoot in you?"
"Uh," Mitch moaned. "Do it."
The bed quaked under us as I gritted my teeth and fucked him harder, feeling my dick getting stiffer and stiffer. Then, with a grunt and a cry, I started to cum, Mitch shook beneath me as I shot my hot spunk into his ass.
"Oh, fuck," he growled, "I can feel your cum inside me. I've got your sperm in me."
I moaned as my orgasm subsided, my sweaty body feeling sticky against Mitch's back. We lay there with my dick buried in his ass for about a minute before I finally pulled it out.
I stood up and kicked off the rest of my clothes. "Now it's your turn," I said as Mitch rolled over and sat up, not quite believing what I was offering him.
I got onto my hands and knees on the floor, looking back at Mitch, sitting there with his already sweat-soaked body and rock-hard dick.
"Come on, Mitch," I encouraged him, "come on and fuck me. Just ram it in me."
And he obliged, kneeling behind me and shoving his cock into my ass with the force of a locomotive. Mitch fingernails scratched up and down my back as he hammered my ass.
"Oh, my god, this is so hot," Mitch grunted as he reamed me. "You're even better than Grunt."
This caught me by surprise. "You mean Grunt Hochner?" I asked, picturing our teammate, 320-pound defensive tackle.
"Yeah," Mitch managed to moan. "A couple of guys on the team fool around sometimes."
This was news to me. I'd never thought someone like Grunt Hochner liked to do a little corn-holing every now and then, but then again, few things surprised me, anymore.
Except for the force of Mitch's climax. THAT surprised me. I could hear his breathing getting more and more labored as the pressure built up inside him. I swore I could even feel his cock swelling larger and stiffer inside me.
"Fuck!" he finally yelled as he came, his pulsing dick blasting its load so forcefully into me that it felt like it was shooting up to my throat. Mitch bucked like a wild bronco behind me as he seemed to fill up my ass with his steaming cum.
When it was over, we collapsed to the floor, with Mitch's cock still inside me. As our sweat soaked into the carpet of his room, we just lay there, recovering from our intense bout of sex.
After a few minutes, I finally sighed. "Y'know, Mitch. I think I might be falling in love with you, too."
And then I felt his cock beginning to harden again inside my ass. Mitch chuckled, a little bit amazed at himself. "Hope you don't have any other plans tonight," he said playfully.
"I do now," I replied as he started to fuck me again.
- fratbear fratbear@excite.com http://www.geocities.com/fratcub/