New Jock Tales Freshman Year Chptr 12 Happy 4th of July
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Jock Tales---Happy 4th Of July free porn video
Happy 4th of July
Summer had been great---and so was life. I had coined my own little phrase--
“one lucky white boi”. Finally achieving 6', and those big ass jock feet now at a 12, poppin 8 hard squares of abs, 9” of vein poppin cock, and that hard round hairy ass. I admit, sometimes I just stood in front of the mirror and jacked off, sniffin on my bushy pits. I tried to keep myself in check, and not brag, or get a big head about it all. Damm, I had more shit than most seniors. But—I could definitely see why anyone wanted to jump my bones. I mean, at my age, I just was quite a fuckin stud. No brag---just the facts, ma'mm. Add the blonde hair and blue eyes, it was a wonder I hadn't been k I d na pp ed, lol.
But not just the awesome bod, but life in general. Living the fantasy of taking our Freshman team to a state championship was still unbelievable---there was really no way we should have accomplished that. We lived in a nice house in a moderate neighborhood. I had a lil bro. Mom had a good job. And I was knocking down cash beyond fantasy selling my big jock dick to pretty much whomever wanted it. Old perverts and middle age cougars were the best---they wanted that yung hard flesh—140lbs of USDA choice. And I was a good fuck as well. Typical fee—about $2.00 a pound, lol.
I tried to believe that I wasn't self-absorbed or anything, really the biggest fascination was the amount of junk I blew every time I popped a load. I had played around with enough guys by now to realize it was massive. I'd say maybe 5 times more than normal—and distant as well. Hell I could shoot about 6 feet—unbroken rope of thick jock jizz. Damm, at just 16 I prolly shot enough juice by now to have populated a small town. No way I coulda been Catholic, lol.
It was still early, so I slide into a pr of gym shorts and head upstairs for some coffee. Surprised that Dustin was already up, absorbed in Saturday morning cartoons. He had made his pop-tarts and chocolate milk all by himself, lol. But then—what's this ?? Coffee made too ?? “Dustin---you make this coffee “?? “Ya Matthew” “Well damm lil bro—thank's for that” I really didn't give my lil bro much attention these days—between the mowing jobs (7 now), dirt bike racing, and summer boxing, (decided to go for gold this year) I just didn't have much free time. And football practice would start up in just 3 weeks---jeez. I was going to have to start working out just any day now. Not after bigger muscles—I liked the build I had, shit I got 16” bi-ceps now, but strength training. Varsity would be a lot harder than Freshman football. And the strength training would benefit the boxing as well. I really didn't like hurting other guys, for no reason at least, but fuck it—if your in that ring, they're gonna hurt you, so you might as well hurt them first.
After a couple of sips of my coffee, and a pop tart as well, there was a knock at the door. Jeez—it's just 9:00 AM. Lazily walking to the front door and opening it, I liked to have lost my shit. There stood Mark Mattox, and Maurice Jones. “What the fuck do you fucks want?” I was pretty arrogant and throaty. Dustin jumps from the couch and bolts for his room. I guess flashbacks from the day last year I pulled the gun on them and dad, and ran them out of the house from having r a p e d my ass the night before. It was also the day I blackmailed dad into getting me the dirt bike. Im thinking I want some drums, too :)
“We just wanna talk, Matthew”. “Ya—about fuckin what?” “Football”. “Not fuckin likely”. “Come on Matthew—we just wanna talk. Use that head on your shoulders and hear us out”. “I ain't gotta lot of time, so come on”.
I ushered them back to the kitchen and topped off my coffee. Didn't even offer them any. Then down to the basement, they took a seat each in the beanbags, and I in the recliner. I assumed an arrogant position, slumping down in the chair, and spreading my hairy muscled legs, just enough to let my junk hang free, and visible from their angle. “Aight—so out with it—what's ur game?” “It's pretty simple Matthew—I wanna play football, just as bad as you. I want to run across that goal line, just as bad as you want to throw that ball for the touchdown. And this year, you need me Matthew. You done lost ¼ of the Varsity team from graduation. This year will be every bit as hard as last year” Already disgusted I hop up from the recliner and head for the bathroom. Standing at the toilet, I shed the gym shorts, and cut loose a strong powerful piss. I hadn't cut one yet that morning, and now had two cups of coffee on top of it. Took nearly a minute.
Returning to the recliner, I assumed the same position, spreading my hairy legs, then giving a light tossell to my low hanging nut sac. Staring Maurice square in the eyes, I simply mumbled, “suck my dick”. Maurice just stares at me, almost a hatred look, even though he had been there before. After just a few seconds, I repeated the command. “You want that jersey ? Suck my dick”. Maurice finally stands up from the beanbag and starts walking towards me. “CRAWL you black son-of-a-bitch”. Hesitating for just a moment, and glancing over at Mark Mattox, Maruice drops to his hands and knees and actually crawled over to me, and with his shoulders now buried right between my hairy muscled thighs, sucks in my half hard dick in one gulp.
I throw my arms up behind my head, locking them together, and take a more stretched out slump in the chair. I glance over to Mattox to see him tensing up, prolly uncomfortable at the scene. I start humping upwards, fucking Maurice mouth, relishing the feel of his thick black lips as he moved up and down on my rapidly swelling cock. “Tighter” I ordered him in a low throaty voice. As Maurice tightens the grip of his lips, and moving from my piss slit to my pubes with his motion, I step up the pace of fucking his mouth, now hitting the back of his throat with each thrust. Maurice gags just a bit each time he goes down, as my 3” pubes go up his nose, which just brought an evil grin to my face.
Usually the morning nut is one of the first things I do, but I hadn't got to it yet this morning—and it's been about 2 hours now since I got up. I take a quick huff of my right pit, burying my bushy hairs into my own nose. As I felt my dick throb at my funk, I bring my arms down, and lock my hands around the back of Maurice head. Giving him a brutal thrust down his throat, and raising my hips up off the chair, I unload. Shot after shot of my thick jock goo go flying down Maurice throat, straight to his belly. I increase the f o r c e of each thrust, as I unload my juice into his guts. Gritting my teeth, and working up a lugie, I spit my snot into Maurice face. Finally letting go, he comes off my dick, and rests back on his haunches.
As the room grows silent, I cross my legs at the ankles, and just sit there playing with my balls.
I order Maurice to turn around, back on all fours, and to bury his face in the floor. Looking over at Mattox, with the same stern face, I just say “fuck him”. Mattox just gives me a glare, and I return the same. Even though he was 19, I think even he believed I could stomp his ass, out of attitude if nothing else. I figure him to be pretty straight, but like me, he did have a thing for some tite greasy man hole. If for no other reason, it don't get pregnant.
With a bit of a smirk, he stands up and sheds his jeans. Still wearing his tee shirt, and socks, I thought it was a sexy look. As he approaches Maurice, and drops down to his knees behind him, he looks over and asks if I had some lube. “Fuck no—spit on him”. Mark kinda moved his head back and forth, but did as I told him, and working up a pretty good lugie himself, spit it perfectly into the center of Maurice asshole. As he starts working his own dick up, I had a momentary admiration of his pretty impressive dick. Mark was hung about 10”, and super fuckin thick. Pretty slender, he had the build I would later call 'zero waist line'. As he strokes up to get his massive fuck stick hard, I blurt out, “No-wait. Suck that hole. Munch that black ass out, and get him sloppy”. Mattox resisted, saying it wasn't his thing. I told him his 'thing' was whatever I told him it was, and if he didn't do what I say, then Maurice doesn't get the jersey. After a few moments of hesitation, Mattox finally lowers his face down to Maurice ass crack. Pushing his mouth into it's dark black crack, I coax him on with “Ya—that's it—munch him out, just like an ice cream cone”. I was actually surprised that Mattox succumbed to such humiliation himself. Being pretty straight, I didn't see him as the type that would sacrifice such a nasty act for someone else. But---I was totally getting off on it, and was getting boned up again. Damm, can't keep my lil monster down :)
I ordered Mark to stick it in, and fuck the shit outta Maurice hole. “Get up in them guts, Mattox---just like you did me”. I jump up from the chair, and walked over to a corner of the room, and fished out a baseball bat. Positioning myself just to the right of Mattox, I softly mumble, “make him cry”. Taking a stance with the bat drawn back behind my ears, Mattox gets a look of fear in his face. Grabbing Maurice now by the waist, he begins a relentless pounding of Maurice tite greasy hole. As his chest turns red, and sweat starts pouring from his pits, and forehead, I scream at him “fuck him up”. Maurice starts whimpering, like a little k I d. Close enough, I decide.
As the moment arrives, Mark takes a final v I o l e n t plunge into Maurice guts, and with the clenching of his teeth, and squeezing his ass cheeks, he blows. He lets out a cry that would surely scare the fuck out of Dustin, I assumed still in his room. Just as Mark begins to subside, and Maurice collapses on the floor on his belly, I take the swing. I bring the bat crashing down across Mark's back and shoulders, then toss it to the side. Mark lets out a b l o o d curling scream, and collapses himself on top of Maurice. Prolly broke a rib—or two—or three—I didn't fuckin care. I walk up to him, and kicking him in the ribs, tell him to roll over onto his back. Then, kicking Maurice in the face, order him to lay across Mark. “Get that dick in ur mouth fag, and suck him clean” I draw my fist back, but with the terror in Maurice face, he does as I told him, and slurps up Mark's still half hard dick, sucking all his jizz, and ass slime from his dick.
Finally deciding that I had had enough, I reach for a pr of jeans, stuffing my low hanging jock dick down the right leg, and tell the others to get dressed as well. Staring them down, as I tie the laces on my PF Flyers, I grunt through my teeth, “I aint such a pussy when I ain't tied up, huh?”
Several moments of silence go by, as the two of them slowly get dressed. Suddenly, from the top of the stairs is Dustin, almost crying. “Matthew---do I need to make some spaghetti”? I smirk a bit, and respond to him, “No lil bro, everything is fine. Were just wrestling around---go back to your cartoons”.
A blank stare comes across Maurice and Mark's face. Finally Mark speaks up, “spaghetti?” “Ya---code for call the police”. “huh---clever”. Maurice finally speaks up as well--”So, Captain---did I make the team?” I clear my throat, and still glaring at Maurice, reply with, “I'll let ya try out—just like everybody else. And if you make it, you will suck my dick---every week, for as long as you play. Camp starts in just three weeks—I suggest you start working out”.
As we climb the stairs, back into the kitchen, I glance in at Dustin heavily involved in the cartoons. I grin at him. Wasn't showing him much attention these days, but I did love the little fuck. I bark at him, kinda loud, “DUSTIN”. He snaps around, almost trembling. With my best Elvis smirk, I softly let out, “Happy birthday, lil shit”. A gleam comes across his face, and almost crying, he come back with “I thought you forgot”. “Naa---how could anyone forget somebody born on the 4th of July”? Dustin swallows hard, then finally grinning himself, says “You gonna get me something”? “Sure lil bro—anything you want---plus the chocolate cake”. Justin gleams like a k I d at Christmas. As Mark and Maurice approach the front door, I finish up with “And I think Mark and Maurice are getting you sometime too”. They just glare at me, prolly thinking, 'what an asshole'
Summer had been great---and so was life. I had coined my own little phrase--
“one lucky white boi”. Finally achieving 6', and those big ass jock feet now at a 12, poppin 8 hard squares of abs, 9” of vein poppin cock, and that hard round hairy ass. I admit, sometimes I just stood in front of the mirror and jacked off, sniffin on my bushy pits. I tried to keep myself in check, and not brag, or get a big head about it all. Damm, I had more shit than most seniors. But—I could definitely see why anyone wanted to jump my bones. I mean, at my age, I just was quite a fuckin stud. No brag---just the facts, ma'mm. Add the blonde hair and blue eyes, it was a wonder I hadn't been k I d na pp ed, lol.
But not just the awesome bod, but life in general. Living the fantasy of taking our Freshman team to a state championship was still unbelievable---there was really no way we should have accomplished that. We lived in a nice house in a moderate neighborhood. I had a lil bro. Mom had a good job. And I was knocking down cash beyond fantasy selling my big jock dick to pretty much whomever wanted it. Old perverts and middle age cougars were the best---they wanted that yung hard flesh—140lbs of USDA choice. And I was a good fuck as well. Typical fee—about $2.00 a pound, lol.
I tried to believe that I wasn't self-absorbed or anything, really the biggest fascination was the amount of junk I blew every time I popped a load. I had played around with enough guys by now to realize it was massive. I'd say maybe 5 times more than normal—and distant as well. Hell I could shoot about 6 feet—unbroken rope of thick jock jizz. Damm, at just 16 I prolly shot enough juice by now to have populated a small town. No way I coulda been Catholic, lol.
It was still early, so I slide into a pr of gym shorts and head upstairs for some coffee. Surprised that Dustin was already up, absorbed in Saturday morning cartoons. He had made his pop-tarts and chocolate milk all by himself, lol. But then—what's this ?? Coffee made too ?? “Dustin---you make this coffee “?? “Ya Matthew” “Well damm lil bro—thank's for that” I really didn't give my lil bro much attention these days—between the mowing jobs (7 now), dirt bike racing, and summer boxing, (decided to go for gold this year) I just didn't have much free time. And football practice would start up in just 3 weeks---jeez. I was going to have to start working out just any day now. Not after bigger muscles—I liked the build I had, shit I got 16” bi-ceps now, but strength training. Varsity would be a lot harder than Freshman football. And the strength training would benefit the boxing as well. I really didn't like hurting other guys, for no reason at least, but fuck it—if your in that ring, they're gonna hurt you, so you might as well hurt them first.
After a couple of sips of my coffee, and a pop tart as well, there was a knock at the door. Jeez—it's just 9:00 AM. Lazily walking to the front door and opening it, I liked to have lost my shit. There stood Mark Mattox, and Maurice Jones. “What the fuck do you fucks want?” I was pretty arrogant and throaty. Dustin jumps from the couch and bolts for his room. I guess flashbacks from the day last year I pulled the gun on them and dad, and ran them out of the house from having r a p e d my ass the night before. It was also the day I blackmailed dad into getting me the dirt bike. Im thinking I want some drums, too :)
“We just wanna talk, Matthew”. “Ya—about fuckin what?” “Football”. “Not fuckin likely”. “Come on Matthew—we just wanna talk. Use that head on your shoulders and hear us out”. “I ain't gotta lot of time, so come on”.
I ushered them back to the kitchen and topped off my coffee. Didn't even offer them any. Then down to the basement, they took a seat each in the beanbags, and I in the recliner. I assumed an arrogant position, slumping down in the chair, and spreading my hairy muscled legs, just enough to let my junk hang free, and visible from their angle. “Aight—so out with it—what's ur game?” “It's pretty simple Matthew—I wanna play football, just as bad as you. I want to run across that goal line, just as bad as you want to throw that ball for the touchdown. And this year, you need me Matthew. You done lost ¼ of the Varsity team from graduation. This year will be every bit as hard as last year” Already disgusted I hop up from the recliner and head for the bathroom. Standing at the toilet, I shed the gym shorts, and cut loose a strong powerful piss. I hadn't cut one yet that morning, and now had two cups of coffee on top of it. Took nearly a minute.
Returning to the recliner, I assumed the same position, spreading my hairy legs, then giving a light tossell to my low hanging nut sac. Staring Maurice square in the eyes, I simply mumbled, “suck my dick”. Maurice just stares at me, almost a hatred look, even though he had been there before. After just a few seconds, I repeated the command. “You want that jersey ? Suck my dick”. Maurice finally stands up from the beanbag and starts walking towards me. “CRAWL you black son-of-a-bitch”. Hesitating for just a moment, and glancing over at Mark Mattox, Maruice drops to his hands and knees and actually crawled over to me, and with his shoulders now buried right between my hairy muscled thighs, sucks in my half hard dick in one gulp.
I throw my arms up behind my head, locking them together, and take a more stretched out slump in the chair. I glance over to Mattox to see him tensing up, prolly uncomfortable at the scene. I start humping upwards, fucking Maurice mouth, relishing the feel of his thick black lips as he moved up and down on my rapidly swelling cock. “Tighter” I ordered him in a low throaty voice. As Maurice tightens the grip of his lips, and moving from my piss slit to my pubes with his motion, I step up the pace of fucking his mouth, now hitting the back of his throat with each thrust. Maurice gags just a bit each time he goes down, as my 3” pubes go up his nose, which just brought an evil grin to my face.
Usually the morning nut is one of the first things I do, but I hadn't got to it yet this morning—and it's been about 2 hours now since I got up. I take a quick huff of my right pit, burying my bushy hairs into my own nose. As I felt my dick throb at my funk, I bring my arms down, and lock my hands around the back of Maurice head. Giving him a brutal thrust down his throat, and raising my hips up off the chair, I unload. Shot after shot of my thick jock goo go flying down Maurice throat, straight to his belly. I increase the f o r c e of each thrust, as I unload my juice into his guts. Gritting my teeth, and working up a lugie, I spit my snot into Maurice face. Finally letting go, he comes off my dick, and rests back on his haunches.
As the room grows silent, I cross my legs at the ankles, and just sit there playing with my balls.
I order Maurice to turn around, back on all fours, and to bury his face in the floor. Looking over at Mattox, with the same stern face, I just say “fuck him”. Mattox just gives me a glare, and I return the same. Even though he was 19, I think even he believed I could stomp his ass, out of attitude if nothing else. I figure him to be pretty straight, but like me, he did have a thing for some tite greasy man hole. If for no other reason, it don't get pregnant.
With a bit of a smirk, he stands up and sheds his jeans. Still wearing his tee shirt, and socks, I thought it was a sexy look. As he approaches Maurice, and drops down to his knees behind him, he looks over and asks if I had some lube. “Fuck no—spit on him”. Mark kinda moved his head back and forth, but did as I told him, and working up a pretty good lugie himself, spit it perfectly into the center of Maurice asshole. As he starts working his own dick up, I had a momentary admiration of his pretty impressive dick. Mark was hung about 10”, and super fuckin thick. Pretty slender, he had the build I would later call 'zero waist line'. As he strokes up to get his massive fuck stick hard, I blurt out, “No-wait. Suck that hole. Munch that black ass out, and get him sloppy”. Mattox resisted, saying it wasn't his thing. I told him his 'thing' was whatever I told him it was, and if he didn't do what I say, then Maurice doesn't get the jersey. After a few moments of hesitation, Mattox finally lowers his face down to Maurice ass crack. Pushing his mouth into it's dark black crack, I coax him on with “Ya—that's it—munch him out, just like an ice cream cone”. I was actually surprised that Mattox succumbed to such humiliation himself. Being pretty straight, I didn't see him as the type that would sacrifice such a nasty act for someone else. But---I was totally getting off on it, and was getting boned up again. Damm, can't keep my lil monster down :)
I ordered Mark to stick it in, and fuck the shit outta Maurice hole. “Get up in them guts, Mattox---just like you did me”. I jump up from the chair, and walked over to a corner of the room, and fished out a baseball bat. Positioning myself just to the right of Mattox, I softly mumble, “make him cry”. Taking a stance with the bat drawn back behind my ears, Mattox gets a look of fear in his face. Grabbing Maurice now by the waist, he begins a relentless pounding of Maurice tite greasy hole. As his chest turns red, and sweat starts pouring from his pits, and forehead, I scream at him “fuck him up”. Maurice starts whimpering, like a little k I d. Close enough, I decide.
As the moment arrives, Mark takes a final v I o l e n t plunge into Maurice guts, and with the clenching of his teeth, and squeezing his ass cheeks, he blows. He lets out a cry that would surely scare the fuck out of Dustin, I assumed still in his room. Just as Mark begins to subside, and Maurice collapses on the floor on his belly, I take the swing. I bring the bat crashing down across Mark's back and shoulders, then toss it to the side. Mark lets out a b l o o d curling scream, and collapses himself on top of Maurice. Prolly broke a rib—or two—or three—I didn't fuckin care. I walk up to him, and kicking him in the ribs, tell him to roll over onto his back. Then, kicking Maurice in the face, order him to lay across Mark. “Get that dick in ur mouth fag, and suck him clean” I draw my fist back, but with the terror in Maurice face, he does as I told him, and slurps up Mark's still half hard dick, sucking all his jizz, and ass slime from his dick.
Finally deciding that I had had enough, I reach for a pr of jeans, stuffing my low hanging jock dick down the right leg, and tell the others to get dressed as well. Staring them down, as I tie the laces on my PF Flyers, I grunt through my teeth, “I aint such a pussy when I ain't tied up, huh?”
Several moments of silence go by, as the two of them slowly get dressed. Suddenly, from the top of the stairs is Dustin, almost crying. “Matthew---do I need to make some spaghetti”? I smirk a bit, and respond to him, “No lil bro, everything is fine. Were just wrestling around---go back to your cartoons”.
A blank stare comes across Maurice and Mark's face. Finally Mark speaks up, “spaghetti?” “Ya---code for call the police”. “huh---clever”. Maurice finally speaks up as well--”So, Captain---did I make the team?” I clear my throat, and still glaring at Maurice, reply with, “I'll let ya try out—just like everybody else. And if you make it, you will suck my dick---every week, for as long as you play. Camp starts in just three weeks—I suggest you start working out”.
As we climb the stairs, back into the kitchen, I glance in at Dustin heavily involved in the cartoons. I grin at him. Wasn't showing him much attention these days, but I did love the little fuck. I bark at him, kinda loud, “DUSTIN”. He snaps around, almost trembling. With my best Elvis smirk, I softly let out, “Happy birthday, lil shit”. A gleam comes across his face, and almost crying, he come back with “I thought you forgot”. “Naa---how could anyone forget somebody born on the 4th of July”? Dustin swallows hard, then finally grinning himself, says “You gonna get me something”? “Sure lil bro—anything you want---plus the chocolate cake”. Justin gleams like a k I d at Christmas. As Mark and Maurice approach the front door, I finish up with “And I think Mark and Maurice are getting you sometime too”. They just glare at me, prolly thinking, 'what an asshole'
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