Jock Tales Senior Year Conclusion
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Jock Tales--Senior Year--Week One--Pt 3 free porn video
Jock Tales—Senior Year—Week One—Pt 3
“May I have your attention please—all members of the football teams please report to the filed house immediately after the last bell. This includes varsity and freshman. Also, any football player that wishes to get a mohawk before Friday's game, report to cosmetology during any period today or tomorrow”.
The mohawk had become quite popular among football players since my run in with the school board back in my freshman year. They had decided to not change the rules, to include the mohawk as 'non acceptable'. It was 'off the collar, and above the ears', so therefore it did not violate the code, as stated. (Jock Tales—Freshman Year—Homecomming)
“Aight you fags—listen up—we got lots of shit to cover. First up—welcome again Freshman. Tomorrow, the Freshman team opens with their first game—so I expect to see a lot of Varsity there to support them. In new news, sometime next year, after Christmas break, there will be a meeting to discuss ending the Freshman program, and go to the all 4 years Varsity squad. Now—it takes a lot of fuckin money to support these programs, and I have pushed the school board to consider combining the two teams into Varsity only—like some of the bigger schools.
Also—in other exciting news, I had a meeting with the Mayor, and Chief of Police—that's Kelso's dad, and to cut right to it, they have agreed to give me 'control' of the old golf corse down the road from my house.
“What's up with that Dillon—what do you mean”?
“Well, some of you know that a few of us have already been going down there to the fields behind it to ride dirt bikes. And sometimes the woods also—it's pretty kewl. But we got to thinking, the abandoned golf corse has paved roads, if ya will, that go to the different holes”. “Ya—so”? “Well, it also has a full bath house—showers, changing areas, crappers, lol”. “Ya-so”? “Well, it also has a full concession stand, a large parking lot, and the whole grounds is fenced in” “Ya-so”?
“You ain't getting it, huh”?
“NO”
“Skatepark”
There was a brief silence, but then, the eruption. “Oh heeeell ya—fuckin aye Dillon—awesome” !! “Now—there will be lots of work to do to get it cleaned up, and whipped back into shape, but there will be more on that project later in the year. Now—let's get back to football”
“Not all of you may realize this—but this program has had significant growth the last few years” The teams erupt again in loud applause, and chants of 'Dillon—Dillon-Dillon'. “Ok, thanx guys—but I didn't do this alone. What some of you may not realize, because it's never been a problem, that the number of team members we can have is limited. This has to do mostly with budget—yep, how much money we get each year for the program. That's one of the reasons we will be looking at combining the Freshman and Varsity. But in doing that, that's going to put a tighter clamp on the total number we can have.
So—once again, as your team captain, it's become my sad duty, and with great remorse, that we have to get to the 'cuts'”. Silence now hovers over the locker room like a death bell. Every player knows it—the last minute cuts just before opening day. “Now---since the Freshman program will most likely end with this season, none of the Freshman members will be cut from their team—they will all be allowed to play. But Varsity will take a deep blow— we have a 95% return members from last year—plus over 50 new guys have tried out this year. That puts our total right now at 90. Our max is 60. In short—I have to cut 30 of you”
“Ahhhh---ohhhh---fuck---goddamm”--pretty much any word of anguish now fills the room. “Aight—aight--I'm sorry dawgs, but it's simple numbers, and it has to be done. Here's how it will happen. Anyone who wishes to voluntarily resign, you have to do it today. Keep in mind that resigning, is not the same as quitting. By resigning, you are 'giving up your post' so to speak, and are still a member of the team—just not an active player. You will remain a part of the team in posistions like managers, work-out partners, scrimmage , and stuff like that. You will have a guaranteed spot for try outs next year. After I see how many resign, then I will know tomorrow how many I have to cut. There will be no Seniors cut—simply because this is their last year, and that wouldn't be fair. So that leaves it to Sophomores and Juniors. The decisions will be based on athletic performance, team interaction, and grades.
Also, sadly, I have to report that three members already are to be dismissed, for violations of the honor code. If you guys thought I was playing around with that shit, now you know I'm not. Those to be dismissed will be told so in private. No names, or reasons will be told in public—that's their private shit, and if they wish to tell anything to anyone, that's their business.
Also—rather than post a list of those otherwise cut, that also will be done in private, and the only list posted will be the final roster. That's as fair as I can do it, and I hope none of you hate me after this shit. Now—that's it—lets go run some plays”.
There was a lot of moaning and groaning, to be understandable. A couple of the b o y s slammed their helmets, or fist's into their lockers—kinda understandable also fearing they would be cut.
The afternoon went on in the typical way—running plays, running track, working out. Mostly half hearted though—even the Seniors were bummed out at the news of having to cut so many from the team. Whispers and rumors took no time in their flight—wonder who the three that were being dismissed from the team.
As I expected, after practice, later in the locker room as most were showering up, not one, but five of the b o y s actually approached me about being cut. Each saying in their own ways that they would do anything to not be cut. Of course, I told each that it just is what it is, and to remember that it didn't mean they were off the team.
Of course also, there was that one, who just wouldn't give up. He started hanging real close to me right there in the locker room. Handing me my towel, grabbing my PF Flyers when I sat on the bench to put them on. He even asked could he come over, and just talk football with me later that night. Damm---did he really think all that shit was gonna make a difference ?? Did he think that maybe, sucking my dick was all it would take to make sure he didn't get cut?? I hoped not.
About 8:00 PM there was a knock at the door, Sure nuff, there he was—Tommy Kincaid—wide receiver. Now Tommy could run like a cheetah, prolly one of the fastest dudes on the team. Problem was, he only caught the ball about 20% of the time. Almost since school let out last year, I had scrimmaged with him some—and this practice season had worked him hard. Sometimes all afternoon just throwing the ball to him—one throw after another. He just couldn't catch.
I was careful with him in that I didn't pull out any beer, or a joint, cause I wasn't sure if I could trust him with that shit. Like Braxton had said, it did violate my own rules, and blackmail was not a game I was going to play.
We ended up just hanging out on the patio—I didn't even invite him down to the basement. And naturally the conversation quickly left football, and headed towards girls and pussy and---yup--blow jobs. Tommy finally got the nerve up to ask me had I ever let a dude blow me. I gave him a smirk, and replied 'maybe'.
“So—is it true—you got the biggest cock at school”? “Well, Tommy, that's what 'they' say. I mean ya—it's a monster, I've just never been challenged on it. Shoot like a water hose as well” I gave a slight smirk.
Tommy shifted a bit in his lounge chair, and went on “ya—I mean you can't help but notice it Dillon—specially when ur in sweats, or football shorts. Damm bro, you hang like half way to ur knees”. I give another big smile, and just reach down and grab the monster. . Giving my dick a nice hard squeeze, and crossing my legs at the ankles, I reply, “ahh now Tommy—ur gonna get me all boned up dude, then I'll be looking for someone to get down on me”.
Without another word, or even any 'formal' invite, Tommy walks over, and grabs the top of my waistline, and with one yank pops the buttons on my 501's. Hooking his hands into each pocket, he gives another hard yank, (I actually assisted him a bit by easing up from my ass) and he pulls my jeans clean off me.
His face lights up as he gets, I guess, his first close up view of my awesome 'jockness'. “holy fuck” rolls off his tongue slowly, and I just stretch my legs out, and as usual bring my arms up and lock my hands back behind my neck.
“Sure you can handle all that bro”
“I got to”
Now—I wasn't stupid, but I wasn't turning down an opportunity to get my dick wet either. Tommy should have had the common sense to understand that what he was offering would have no bearing on getting cut or not---I had no problem getting my dick sucked pretty much any time I wanted it.
But—he goes for it anyway. Grabbing me by the base, and cupping my balls, Tommy goes down , and instantly starts slobbering up on my head, and swallowing maybe half of my shaft. As usual, I start boning up at once, and in just a couple of minutes was now at my full 10” of throbbing jock meat. He did a pretty good job, but only going about half way with each up and down motion. Guess he really was str8, and now on his knees, blowing his all star ¼ back, prolly figured it was all he could do to save his spot on the team.
I was pretty relaxed through the deal, now into about 20 minutes still sucking, and now jackin my ever thickening shaft. His face started showing signs of tiredness, and even turning a bit red, as he picked up the pace of jacking me, and now he started trying to go down deeper as he desperately tried to get me off.
“Come on dude” he finally let out in desperation of trying to make me nut.
I just smile at him, and respond with “Hey—I'm fucking enjoying this—your a pretty good cocksucker Kincaid—wanna try it up the ass ? I'll get off faster”
“Well, ok I guess, but jeez Dillon, please don't hurt me”
I give a chuckle and just say back to him, “No promises punk, now turn around and grab some concrete if ya wanna get this over”
Tommy does as suggested, and now with palms flat on the pavement of the patio, and ass waaaay high in the air, (he was about 6'2), I work up a wad of spit and snot and drop it down on the head of my dick. Working it around and combining it with the now flowing fuck juice oozing from my piss slit, I push my head to just his hole. Grabbing him on either side of his waist, I ask him one more time--”Are you sure”? He simply replies, “do me Dillon”
With one slow, but deliberate thrust, I f o r c e Tommy's tite jock hole open, and as he lets out a cry of terror, (Yup—this boi is deff str8—cherry hole !!) I bury my thick jock meat to the hilt, bottoming out with my low hanging hairy balls right up against his ass.
Tommy continues crying out “Oh fuck—oh-fuck” and as he starts trembling fro his waist down, I begin the process of in and out of his ass, each time a little faster, and a little harder. “Oh fuck Dillon- just get ur nut dude—come on—ur fuckin splitting me open” !
I flash an evil grin to myself, and finally tell him--”Aight dawg—here it comes”
With that, I tighten my grip on Tommy's waistline to aid in holding him up—I knew he was getting weak. And with a final quick slamming of about 6-7 thrusts, I unload. Shot after shot of my thick heavy goo go blasting into Tommy's guts, and he continues crying out from the pain of his no longer virgin ass being destroyed.
I just continue grinning from ear to ear, relishing at his suffering, but at the same time admiring his bravery.
Finally spent, I yank my swollen fuck stick from his ass, and with an audible 'plop' as my head exits it's warm slimy environment, the load of fresh jock jizz begins to ooze from his hole. I smile even bigger at my accomplishment, and give Tommy a hard smack on his right ass cheek. “Aight dawg—ur done”
I grab a towel from the patio table and toss it to him to wipe up with. Not caring about my own mess, I just grab my jeans and packing the monster down the right leg, button up. “Wanna beer”? “Ya—fuck ya—thanx dude” Tommy replies, still huffing and out of breath.
I walk into the kitchen and grab two from the fridge along with a bag of Frito's.
We sat at the table in silence, just munching and drinking our beer's. After a few minutes, the door bell rings. I smile and just say “pizza” !
Returning to the patio with, uh-oh, Kelso and Patroni, Tommy's face changes to one of panic. We all just exchange pleasantries, and get right down into destroying the two boxes of pizza. It probably only took 10 minutes or so before it was all gone. With just slight chit-chat, we continue sucking on our beers, and then I jump to the kitchen again for some fresh ones for all of us.
Patroni finally speaks up first, “So Kincaid—what brings you over to the Dillon house for the first time”. Tommy, still nervous now at the sudden appearance of the two, meekly replies “Just football—just talking football” Patroni and Kelso both grin at each other.
Now—if you have been reading my jock tales for a while now, then you have gotten to know me pretty good by now—at least I hope so. So, you should have figured out by now what I did. After arriving home, I quickly gave the b o I s a call and said to come over, and bring some pizza, as I was pretty sure some fresh meat was gonna show up around 8:00, and—wa-lah.
So, just to fuck with him, Kelso continues, “Kincaid---you know how long the three of us have known each other”? “Well—no”. “Since we were 10” “Ya—so”
“So don't you think we know each other pretty damm good” ?
“Ya—I guess so—that makes sense”.
“Ok dawg—so here's what we see. We come in, and there you are, all nicely dressed and shit, but your hair is sweating like you been running” “Matthew there, kicked back, no shirt, no kicks, sucking on a cold one, that big monster jock cock of his hanging down the right leg, sweat pouring from his pits and chest, and his legs are crossed at the ankles as he slowly motions them back and forth, showin off those big ass size 13's, just a happy lil shit lookin like he just got him a FINE piece of ass”
Tommy froze. A long silence sets in. “Tell um Dillon—were just talkin football—damm”
“I don't think they believe you, Tommy”
“What the fuck”??
“I think ur gonna have to suck their dicks too, Tommy—just to make sure word doesn't get out that ur a cocksucker”.
“Ahhhhh mann—come on” ! Tommie cries out in both fustration, and humiliation.
By now, both Patroni and Kelso had kicked back in their respective lounge chairs, and have dropped their jeans to their ankles, and already playing with their balls getting boned up.
“I think Tommy, you should get busy, just to be safe”
With anguish on his face, and with fear in his eyes of being 'outed', Tommy finally stands, and walks over to the b o I s, now fully boned up, waiting for his eager to please mouth. To tell it quick—Tommy spent the next 30 minutes, on his knees again, alternating back and forth on Patroni's and Kelso's jock cocks, and finally getting them to bust, ends up with yet another face full of hot thick jock jizz, dripping down his chin. We all just smile at him, and give him a few pats on the back.
“Ok Kincaid, ur secret is safe”
“I aint gay ya know---you know why I did that shit Dillon”
“Well, Tommy, I think I know why YOU think you did it”
“What the fuck you mean Dillon”?
“Tommy—how many of each position on a football team”?
“What ?? that's a stupid question”
“Then answer it, fuck face”
“Other than the ¼ back, and center, then you got two of each—one on each flank”
“OK—good. And you are the----”?
“Wide receiver—where are you going Dillon”?
“Ok—so the other wide receiver is----”?
“Jeez man, Jackson”
“Ok—so how many does that make”?
By now Kelso and Patroni are already spitting up their beers laughing so hard, even snot pouring from their noses” And now---Tommy has the most perfect blank stare on his face.
“So Tommy---why did you think you were ever in any danger of being cut”?
LMAO---next chapter—Opening Day !
“May I have your attention please—all members of the football teams please report to the filed house immediately after the last bell. This includes varsity and freshman. Also, any football player that wishes to get a mohawk before Friday's game, report to cosmetology during any period today or tomorrow”.
The mohawk had become quite popular among football players since my run in with the school board back in my freshman year. They had decided to not change the rules, to include the mohawk as 'non acceptable'. It was 'off the collar, and above the ears', so therefore it did not violate the code, as stated. (Jock Tales—Freshman Year—Homecomming)
“Aight you fags—listen up—we got lots of shit to cover. First up—welcome again Freshman. Tomorrow, the Freshman team opens with their first game—so I expect to see a lot of Varsity there to support them. In new news, sometime next year, after Christmas break, there will be a meeting to discuss ending the Freshman program, and go to the all 4 years Varsity squad. Now—it takes a lot of fuckin money to support these programs, and I have pushed the school board to consider combining the two teams into Varsity only—like some of the bigger schools.
Also—in other exciting news, I had a meeting with the Mayor, and Chief of Police—that's Kelso's dad, and to cut right to it, they have agreed to give me 'control' of the old golf corse down the road from my house.
“What's up with that Dillon—what do you mean”?
“Well, some of you know that a few of us have already been going down there to the fields behind it to ride dirt bikes. And sometimes the woods also—it's pretty kewl. But we got to thinking, the abandoned golf corse has paved roads, if ya will, that go to the different holes”. “Ya—so”? “Well, it also has a full bath house—showers, changing areas, crappers, lol”. “Ya-so”? “Well, it also has a full concession stand, a large parking lot, and the whole grounds is fenced in” “Ya-so”?
“You ain't getting it, huh”?
“NO”
“Skatepark”
There was a brief silence, but then, the eruption. “Oh heeeell ya—fuckin aye Dillon—awesome” !! “Now—there will be lots of work to do to get it cleaned up, and whipped back into shape, but there will be more on that project later in the year. Now—let's get back to football”
“Not all of you may realize this—but this program has had significant growth the last few years” The teams erupt again in loud applause, and chants of 'Dillon—Dillon-Dillon'. “Ok, thanx guys—but I didn't do this alone. What some of you may not realize, because it's never been a problem, that the number of team members we can have is limited. This has to do mostly with budget—yep, how much money we get each year for the program. That's one of the reasons we will be looking at combining the Freshman and Varsity. But in doing that, that's going to put a tighter clamp on the total number we can have.
So—once again, as your team captain, it's become my sad duty, and with great remorse, that we have to get to the 'cuts'”. Silence now hovers over the locker room like a death bell. Every player knows it—the last minute cuts just before opening day. “Now---since the Freshman program will most likely end with this season, none of the Freshman members will be cut from their team—they will all be allowed to play. But Varsity will take a deep blow— we have a 95% return members from last year—plus over 50 new guys have tried out this year. That puts our total right now at 90. Our max is 60. In short—I have to cut 30 of you”
“Ahhhh---ohhhh---fuck---goddamm”--pretty much any word of anguish now fills the room. “Aight—aight--I'm sorry dawgs, but it's simple numbers, and it has to be done. Here's how it will happen. Anyone who wishes to voluntarily resign, you have to do it today. Keep in mind that resigning, is not the same as quitting. By resigning, you are 'giving up your post' so to speak, and are still a member of the team—just not an active player. You will remain a part of the team in posistions like managers, work-out partners, scrimmage , and stuff like that. You will have a guaranteed spot for try outs next year. After I see how many resign, then I will know tomorrow how many I have to cut. There will be no Seniors cut—simply because this is their last year, and that wouldn't be fair. So that leaves it to Sophomores and Juniors. The decisions will be based on athletic performance, team interaction, and grades.
Also, sadly, I have to report that three members already are to be dismissed, for violations of the honor code. If you guys thought I was playing around with that shit, now you know I'm not. Those to be dismissed will be told so in private. No names, or reasons will be told in public—that's their private shit, and if they wish to tell anything to anyone, that's their business.
Also—rather than post a list of those otherwise cut, that also will be done in private, and the only list posted will be the final roster. That's as fair as I can do it, and I hope none of you hate me after this shit. Now—that's it—lets go run some plays”.
There was a lot of moaning and groaning, to be understandable. A couple of the b o y s slammed their helmets, or fist's into their lockers—kinda understandable also fearing they would be cut.
The afternoon went on in the typical way—running plays, running track, working out. Mostly half hearted though—even the Seniors were bummed out at the news of having to cut so many from the team. Whispers and rumors took no time in their flight—wonder who the three that were being dismissed from the team.
As I expected, after practice, later in the locker room as most were showering up, not one, but five of the b o y s actually approached me about being cut. Each saying in their own ways that they would do anything to not be cut. Of course, I told each that it just is what it is, and to remember that it didn't mean they were off the team.
Of course also, there was that one, who just wouldn't give up. He started hanging real close to me right there in the locker room. Handing me my towel, grabbing my PF Flyers when I sat on the bench to put them on. He even asked could he come over, and just talk football with me later that night. Damm---did he really think all that shit was gonna make a difference ?? Did he think that maybe, sucking my dick was all it would take to make sure he didn't get cut?? I hoped not.
About 8:00 PM there was a knock at the door, Sure nuff, there he was—Tommy Kincaid—wide receiver. Now Tommy could run like a cheetah, prolly one of the fastest dudes on the team. Problem was, he only caught the ball about 20% of the time. Almost since school let out last year, I had scrimmaged with him some—and this practice season had worked him hard. Sometimes all afternoon just throwing the ball to him—one throw after another. He just couldn't catch.
I was careful with him in that I didn't pull out any beer, or a joint, cause I wasn't sure if I could trust him with that shit. Like Braxton had said, it did violate my own rules, and blackmail was not a game I was going to play.
We ended up just hanging out on the patio—I didn't even invite him down to the basement. And naturally the conversation quickly left football, and headed towards girls and pussy and---yup--blow jobs. Tommy finally got the nerve up to ask me had I ever let a dude blow me. I gave him a smirk, and replied 'maybe'.
“So—is it true—you got the biggest cock at school”? “Well, Tommy, that's what 'they' say. I mean ya—it's a monster, I've just never been challenged on it. Shoot like a water hose as well” I gave a slight smirk.
Tommy shifted a bit in his lounge chair, and went on “ya—I mean you can't help but notice it Dillon—specially when ur in sweats, or football shorts. Damm bro, you hang like half way to ur knees”. I give another big smile, and just reach down and grab the monster. . Giving my dick a nice hard squeeze, and crossing my legs at the ankles, I reply, “ahh now Tommy—ur gonna get me all boned up dude, then I'll be looking for someone to get down on me”.
Without another word, or even any 'formal' invite, Tommy walks over, and grabs the top of my waistline, and with one yank pops the buttons on my 501's. Hooking his hands into each pocket, he gives another hard yank, (I actually assisted him a bit by easing up from my ass) and he pulls my jeans clean off me.
His face lights up as he gets, I guess, his first close up view of my awesome 'jockness'. “holy fuck” rolls off his tongue slowly, and I just stretch my legs out, and as usual bring my arms up and lock my hands back behind my neck.
“Sure you can handle all that bro”
“I got to”
Now—I wasn't stupid, but I wasn't turning down an opportunity to get my dick wet either. Tommy should have had the common sense to understand that what he was offering would have no bearing on getting cut or not---I had no problem getting my dick sucked pretty much any time I wanted it.
But—he goes for it anyway. Grabbing me by the base, and cupping my balls, Tommy goes down , and instantly starts slobbering up on my head, and swallowing maybe half of my shaft. As usual, I start boning up at once, and in just a couple of minutes was now at my full 10” of throbbing jock meat. He did a pretty good job, but only going about half way with each up and down motion. Guess he really was str8, and now on his knees, blowing his all star ¼ back, prolly figured it was all he could do to save his spot on the team.
I was pretty relaxed through the deal, now into about 20 minutes still sucking, and now jackin my ever thickening shaft. His face started showing signs of tiredness, and even turning a bit red, as he picked up the pace of jacking me, and now he started trying to go down deeper as he desperately tried to get me off.
“Come on dude” he finally let out in desperation of trying to make me nut.
I just smile at him, and respond with “Hey—I'm fucking enjoying this—your a pretty good cocksucker Kincaid—wanna try it up the ass ? I'll get off faster”
“Well, ok I guess, but jeez Dillon, please don't hurt me”
I give a chuckle and just say back to him, “No promises punk, now turn around and grab some concrete if ya wanna get this over”
Tommy does as suggested, and now with palms flat on the pavement of the patio, and ass waaaay high in the air, (he was about 6'2), I work up a wad of spit and snot and drop it down on the head of my dick. Working it around and combining it with the now flowing fuck juice oozing from my piss slit, I push my head to just his hole. Grabbing him on either side of his waist, I ask him one more time--”Are you sure”? He simply replies, “do me Dillon”
With one slow, but deliberate thrust, I f o r c e Tommy's tite jock hole open, and as he lets out a cry of terror, (Yup—this boi is deff str8—cherry hole !!) I bury my thick jock meat to the hilt, bottoming out with my low hanging hairy balls right up against his ass.
Tommy continues crying out “Oh fuck—oh-fuck” and as he starts trembling fro his waist down, I begin the process of in and out of his ass, each time a little faster, and a little harder. “Oh fuck Dillon- just get ur nut dude—come on—ur fuckin splitting me open” !
I flash an evil grin to myself, and finally tell him--”Aight dawg—here it comes”
With that, I tighten my grip on Tommy's waistline to aid in holding him up—I knew he was getting weak. And with a final quick slamming of about 6-7 thrusts, I unload. Shot after shot of my thick heavy goo go blasting into Tommy's guts, and he continues crying out from the pain of his no longer virgin ass being destroyed.
I just continue grinning from ear to ear, relishing at his suffering, but at the same time admiring his bravery.
Finally spent, I yank my swollen fuck stick from his ass, and with an audible 'plop' as my head exits it's warm slimy environment, the load of fresh jock jizz begins to ooze from his hole. I smile even bigger at my accomplishment, and give Tommy a hard smack on his right ass cheek. “Aight dawg—ur done”
I grab a towel from the patio table and toss it to him to wipe up with. Not caring about my own mess, I just grab my jeans and packing the monster down the right leg, button up. “Wanna beer”? “Ya—fuck ya—thanx dude” Tommy replies, still huffing and out of breath.
I walk into the kitchen and grab two from the fridge along with a bag of Frito's.
We sat at the table in silence, just munching and drinking our beer's. After a few minutes, the door bell rings. I smile and just say “pizza” !
Returning to the patio with, uh-oh, Kelso and Patroni, Tommy's face changes to one of panic. We all just exchange pleasantries, and get right down into destroying the two boxes of pizza. It probably only took 10 minutes or so before it was all gone. With just slight chit-chat, we continue sucking on our beers, and then I jump to the kitchen again for some fresh ones for all of us.
Patroni finally speaks up first, “So Kincaid—what brings you over to the Dillon house for the first time”. Tommy, still nervous now at the sudden appearance of the two, meekly replies “Just football—just talking football” Patroni and Kelso both grin at each other.
Now—if you have been reading my jock tales for a while now, then you have gotten to know me pretty good by now—at least I hope so. So, you should have figured out by now what I did. After arriving home, I quickly gave the b o I s a call and said to come over, and bring some pizza, as I was pretty sure some fresh meat was gonna show up around 8:00, and—wa-lah.
So, just to fuck with him, Kelso continues, “Kincaid---you know how long the three of us have known each other”? “Well—no”. “Since we were 10” “Ya—so”
“So don't you think we know each other pretty damm good” ?
“Ya—I guess so—that makes sense”.
“Ok dawg—so here's what we see. We come in, and there you are, all nicely dressed and shit, but your hair is sweating like you been running” “Matthew there, kicked back, no shirt, no kicks, sucking on a cold one, that big monster jock cock of his hanging down the right leg, sweat pouring from his pits and chest, and his legs are crossed at the ankles as he slowly motions them back and forth, showin off those big ass size 13's, just a happy lil shit lookin like he just got him a FINE piece of ass”
Tommy froze. A long silence sets in. “Tell um Dillon—were just talkin football—damm”
“I don't think they believe you, Tommy”
“What the fuck”??
“I think ur gonna have to suck their dicks too, Tommy—just to make sure word doesn't get out that ur a cocksucker”.
“Ahhhhh mann—come on” ! Tommie cries out in both fustration, and humiliation.
By now, both Patroni and Kelso had kicked back in their respective lounge chairs, and have dropped their jeans to their ankles, and already playing with their balls getting boned up.
“I think Tommy, you should get busy, just to be safe”
With anguish on his face, and with fear in his eyes of being 'outed', Tommy finally stands, and walks over to the b o I s, now fully boned up, waiting for his eager to please mouth. To tell it quick—Tommy spent the next 30 minutes, on his knees again, alternating back and forth on Patroni's and Kelso's jock cocks, and finally getting them to bust, ends up with yet another face full of hot thick jock jizz, dripping down his chin. We all just smile at him, and give him a few pats on the back.
“Ok Kincaid, ur secret is safe”
“I aint gay ya know---you know why I did that shit Dillon”
“Well, Tommy, I think I know why YOU think you did it”
“What the fuck you mean Dillon”?
“Tommy—how many of each position on a football team”?
“What ?? that's a stupid question”
“Then answer it, fuck face”
“Other than the ¼ back, and center, then you got two of each—one on each flank”
“OK—good. And you are the----”?
“Wide receiver—where are you going Dillon”?
“Ok—so the other wide receiver is----”?
“Jeez man, Jackson”
“Ok—so how many does that make”?
By now Kelso and Patroni are already spitting up their beers laughing so hard, even snot pouring from their noses” And now---Tommy has the most perfect blank stare on his face.
“So Tommy---why did you think you were ever in any danger of being cut”?
LMAO---next chapter—Opening Day !
Yvette
- 24.07.2020
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