Butch Trade Soccer Player
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The Soccer Player free porn video
Freshman year I lived down the hall from this big, scruffy, tough-boy soccer
player. One day I went to see a soccer match in which he was playing. I had
been fantasizing about him for some time -- he wasn't my usual type (I usually
fantasized about other gays). Kevin was a big, hairy, muscular jock, who
generally avoided me, probably because I seemed like some intellectual faggot--
he was basically right. I was always trying to catch covert glimpses of him in
the showers, and he probably suspected it.
After the game, several other guys from our floor and I went to congratulate
Kevin on his goals, and yet another victory for the indomitable Columbia
Lions. En masse, we paraded to a favored dive to celebrate. I felt awkward,
being friends with only one of the crowd, and considering the intangible
tension between Kevin and me. But everyone was quite festive, especially once
we started pouring on the beer; as the evening wore on I became included in
the group, joining the story telling, arguing and taunting. Now that Kevin
and I were talking, he transformed our previously ineffable tension into a
game of gradually escalating jibes. Everyone was really getting into it, and
though most were Kevin's friends I succeeded in turning most of his
wimp-fag-grind taunts into some big laughs at his expense. The more I managed
to get Kevin's friends to laugh at him (right in front of his face) the more
obviously frustrated he became. Just as it seemed he reached his level of
tolerance, I quit mocking him and played the nice guy. Kevin calmed down,
especially when I appeased him by buying him another pitcher of beer. I kept
this up for a while, until the party was over.
He and I were the only two from our floor left, so we ambled back to the
dorm, where Kevin surprised me by actually inviting me to his room. We
continued our conversation sitting on the floor, leaning up against his bed.
While we were talking, Kevin's wounds from our earlier verbal match were
obviously still smarting, and he was looking for a little vengeance. He
started his taunts again, but in his woozy diffidence, and in his own room,
he was in no mood for my clever retorts. Finally, all this drollery began to
pay off...
"Fuck You! Listen, you crummy little wimp; I don't care what Tina supposedly
said to you or anybody else about faking orgasms, I know what happened -- I
was there. There was no way that anyone could be dissatisfied with this."
Kevin grabbed the formidable basket that was obviously filled with an even
larger part of him -- his ego.
"Come on, Kevin, you're smarter than that, at least. You know that quality is
far more successful than quantity. No matter how big your fucking dick is,
and no matter how much you jab it at somebody, it won't be as effective as
an average dick in the hands of a master. Like a pen in the hands of a
poet. Shakespeare took the words right out of my mouth: My pen is mightier
than your sword."
"Fuck you and your Bic dick! You think you're so god-damned smart, I'll just
have to teach you the importance of quantity!" Lacking for words Kevin groped
for a more effective response.
Kevin grabbed my shoulders and we began an exuberant, drunken wrestling match
on the floor. I was having a barely concealed thrill as we grappled,
especially when he had the upper hand, which was most of the time; Kevin was
in his element. To get things moving in the right direction, when Kevin had
gotten me into a hold, I used one of my favorite i*****l moves -- the crotch
crush. This not only got me free, but inflamed Kevin, and gave him new
ideas. At one point, I actually managed to get him into a position flat on his
stomach, with one arm pinned and the toes of one socked foot secured in my
fist.
"Look, even a 'wimp' like me can hold out against a big fool like you -
because you think with your feet! Your god-damn, big, stinking feet!" I
challenged him, while twisting his toes so hard that he squirmed. Obviously
this taunt struck a special spot, because he was suddenly enraged, and
quickly broke away. Soon I found myself flat on my back, with Kevin sitting
on top, breathing hot, sweaty beer breath in my face.
"Now you see, mister fuckin' quality -- see how far it got you. And what's so
bad about my feet, huh? Tina didn't appreciate my feet either. What made 6
goals today, including the winning one? My feet. What's gonna win us the
league title? My feet. What do you think got me into this school!? Man, my
feet are worth more than your whole body." I had no idea that Kevin had just
as big a fixation on feet as I did; I had unknowingly twisted another very
important, very sensitive part of his ego.
Kevin was obviously enjoying his new position. I had managed to be an
increasingly annoying pain in his ass all night, and now he had me. "Well, I
guess I'm just gonna have to teach you another lesson, gay-boy. Your gonna
learn just how much an honor it is to kiss my feet!" It was more than I could
have hoped for.
Kevin reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs (probably
part of his punk paraphernalia collection) and proceeded to handcuff my wrists
to the bottom of the radiator. I put up a very nominal struggle. He sat on my
legs and, with a great big grin on his face, stuck his socked feet right on my
face. Kevin had big, wide feet, that must have been a size 11 or so, and they
were in thick, white sweat socks, which were still damp with his sweat from the
game, and smothered me in their heady aroma. He couldn't see my great big
grin, as I squirmed in pleasure. "Now take my socks off," he ordered, a
devilish look oozing over his flushed face.
"Right, and then I'll fold them up and put them in the laundry..." I was cut
off in mid sentence as he grabbed my balls through my jeans.
"Hey, smart-boy, where there's a will," he squeezed, "there's a way." In
need of no further encouragement, I began to take off his socks with my teeth.
He laughed at my struggles to get the socks over his heels, and kept on
providing encouragement when I took a momentary breather by man handling my
balls. I had a hell of a time getting them off, it must have taken about ten
minutes, but I got hotter by the second. It was a labor of lust.
Now he held one of his naked feet over my face. I was awestruck. It was the
largest, most gorgeous, beautifully shaped, soft skinned, high-sloping
arched, long toed, moist man foot I had ever seen and smelled this close in my
life. I was surprised and transfixed by its sight and my dick was throbbing,
straining against my jeans. Kevin had stopped laughing and was now intensely
serious.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He squeezed my balls again, but that was totally
unnecessary.
"Yes."
"It's the most beautiful foot you've ever seen?"
"Yes."
"And you worship it?"
"Totally."
"And you want the honor of kissing it to prove your appreciation and
wimp-hood?"
"Please."
"Kiss my foot."
I raised my lips to my fantasy incarnate and enjoyed the most satisfying kiss
of my life. I went wild. I began to kiss every inch of Kevin's sole. It was
incredible. He was so sensitive that he wiggled and squirmed when I started
licking and sucking his feet. But Kevin seemed to be getting off on this
almost as much as I. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back and moaned
softly. He must have seen or felt my erection; he was practically sitting
on it. Both of us were completely obsessed in his feet, but I was still
surprised when I happened to catch a glimpse of him releasing his throbbing
cock from his jeans and begin wailing on it. By this time he was lying down
on top of my legs, with his butt right on my pressing bulge, and his feet in
my face. Every time I switched my attention from one foot to the other, he
would slightly accelerate the rate of his strokes.
I began to snake my tongue between his big, long toes, exploring where no
tongue had gone before, and discovered fantastic reactions. Kevin started
thrashing around on top of me, grinding his muscular butt into my aching
dick. His moans were getting louder and faster, and were punctuated by gasps
and occasional giggles, which goaded me on. For the first time in my life I
was fulfilling my fantasy of eating a hot foot. I started to nibble on the
heel of Kevin's squirming, trembling foot. I opened my mouth as wide as
possible, gnawed on the sole of his heel, and raked my teeth across the inside
of his arch. Kevin went bananas! His feet shuddered violently and started
twitching as he burst out laughing. I was in hog-heaven, nibbling and licking
and grinding my whole face into a pair of sensitive, writhing stud-feet,
which, though they were being tickled remorselessly, seemed unwilling (or
unable) to escape their torture. Though Kevin was alternately laughing
hysterically and moaning, his hand never lapsed from its furious pumping.
Suddenly Kevin arched his back so that his entire weight was resting on his
shoulders and feet (on my face), and, with a strangled cry, began to come. I
wildly scrubbed my teeth along his soles as he spurted come straight up into
the air like a geyser. After the first few spurts he dropped his muscular,
pumping butt right down on my dick -- which was all I needed to explode. Our
hips pumped in unison, his descending butt into my rising dick, as our come
pulsed out, shot after shot, his chest and my jeans getting soaked. I was
amazed at the quantity of come that just kept gushing out of his dick.
Finally, both our dicks had stopped squirting, and the moans and thrusts
subsided into deep, calm breathing, as he lay on top of me.
The real world suddenly flashed into my brain -- this big, occasionally
nasty, drunk jock, with whom, until just a few hours ago, I had had an
antagonistic relationship, had me (a gay-boy confirmed in his wimp-hood)
handcuffed to the radiator after having witnessed his enjoyment of a
homosexual encounter. The horrifying potential of the situation caused my
innards to tighten. As seconds silently passed I knew that Kevin was also,
slowly, drunkenly, becoming aware of his actions. The passing of each gaping
moment brought new fears for me to struggle with as I imagined the 'terrible'
realizations which Kevin was having to face for the first time, and wanting to
beat back into his u*********s, and crush out of existence. Kevin slowly sat
up. My blood raced as I struggled to figure out what the bizarre look on his
face meant; at first it was a mixture of confusion and fear, that gradually
changed into a look of angry resignation -- the bottom of my stomach dropped
out. Shit! I knew it; the intensity of his forbidden pleasure must have had
such frightening consequences for him that it now had to be eradicated by
force. Kevin suddenly leaned over me and grabbed my head with his hands. As
he raised my head for the first blow, I clenched my eyes shut.
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