college sports – Mansploitation

Jockstrap Raid!

The football team at GHU did a panty raid, which means the gymnast team is allowed to turn the tables… The jocks get their jockstraps raided, resulting in a massive-athlete multiple-man locker room showdown both teams will never forget!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Last year, the football team had done a panty raid on the cheerleaders in the locker room. They stormed in there half-naked and shouted ‘Panty Raid!’ over and over as they grabbed used and clean panties from the girls. It was a big scandal at GHU afterwards. The cheerleaders themselves called it an enjoyable prank, but the feminist groups on campus were less enthused.
But now this year, Avery and the other gymnasts marched into the men’s locker room a few minutes after football practice ended. His heart pounded as he and the other gymnasts chanted, “Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
That was because the gymnastics team had won the state championship this year, the first GHU team to win a championship in years. The football team had had a dismal season, so Coach Marshall told the gymnasts to come on in and go to town on the football jocks.
The players were sullen, sweaty beasts, angry with each other for having lost the season badly and having had a disappointing practice today. They stood and sat on benches in the locker room, dressed mainly in their jockstraps, though a few were naked, crotches covered by their hands as they watched the gymnasts file into the locker room.
“Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
Avery blushed. He wasn’t used to being this forward. It was normal for athletes to be so horny they couldn’t resist stealing girls’s panties. But he and his fellow gymnasts just didn’t do that kind of thing.
“Give us your jockstraps, men!”
The gymnasts clapped and hooted as they spread out. Someone even turned the lights off, so the locker room was dimly illuminated only by the emergency lighting. That made it significantly easier for Avery, who didn’t feel like he was about to be beat up as he approached Jimmy.
Jimmy was the quarterback and team captain, and he had the most well-sculpted ass that Avery had ever seen. Once a few months ago, Avery walked past the men’s locker room and caught a glimpse into the door as it swung shut. Jimmy was there, wearing a jockstrap and nothing else, flicking a wet towel. His muscled back was covered in either sweat or shower water, Avery couldn’t tell which. There was a sink area near the door, so Jimmy’s presence near enough that Avery could see him from outside suggested that Jimmy and the team were engaging in horseplay there in the lockers. Avery had shuddered at the sight of Jimmy’s plump asscheeks cradled by a soaked jockstrap.
Now he went up to Jimmy’s shadowy body. He stood with one foot on the bench, mid-conversation with a linebacker when the gymnasts filed in. He remained right there, balls overflowing from his jock pouch where it dangled between his open legs. His broad muscles were bare, his crotch unblocked from view, cuz Jimmy was shameless like that. When he spoke, his balls jiggled in the pouch of his jockstrap.
“Give up the jockstraps, gentlemen!” shouted the gymnastics team captain, Fred. He was the most flamboyant and feminine of the gymnasts, and as he spoke, he shook his ass in his trackpants in front of the tight end Charlie Smitkowski, who giggled like he was watching his first stripper give him a lapdance.
“This is weird, Jimmy.”
“Don’t be fuckin’ squeamish, man. Ain’t a big deal. We told the cheerleaders it weren’t a big deal, so it can’t be a big deal now-” Whoever that was — Avery didn’t see in the darkness — squealed then, and there was an explosion of movement.
“Damn, whoever that was, that’s too much, you can’t stick your finger in my ass!”
Avery ignored the nervous laughter of the football players. He steeled his own nerves and reached out for Jimmy’s broad, strapping chest muscles. Jimmy must not have realized it was going to happen, because he yelped in surprise and his muscles all tensed at once.
That rolling undulation of his powerful muscles was enough for Avery to get dizzy and overheated. Jimmy dripped with sweat, and his pectoral muscles were like overinflated soccer balls, hard and unyielding yet soft and inviting at the same time. Avery leaned in and licked the sweat off his nipples as Jimmy joined the other teammates in laughter.
“Oh yeah, nasty!”
“Lick it up, boys! Lick it up!”
They laughed cockily as though they enjoyed being the object of attention from a bunch of flamboyant gymnasts, but they were all distinctly nervous. Their muscles remained tensed as the gymnasts explored their football jock bodies.
“Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
Meanwhile Avery’s hands roamed down Jimmy’s body. Jimmy stood there, flat on both feet now like a soldier at attention. His muscles quaked like he was slightly ticklish or just plain nervous at Avery’s hands on the straps of his jock.
A part of Avery wanted to keep going and stroke Jimmy off, but he didn’t — nobody else was, and he didn’t think Jimmy would allow that. Coach Marshall hadn’t said they could do it (though he hadn’t say they couldn’t either). And the football players hadn’t had sex with the cheerleaders after the panty raid — or had they? Now Avery wasn’t sure. He knew he heard once that the football players had all eaten out a cheerleader’s pussy at the same, and they had switched girls as a competition to see who was best.
That seemed gross and unsanitary to Avery, but, he could hardly complain. Once he pulled down Jimmy’s jockstrap and had it in his hand, he shoved the entire thing in his mouth. He suckled on it, trying to get every drop of salty moisture.
“Oh damn, I ain’t think they was gonna lick on ’em!”
“That’s is fuckin’ nasty. We ain’t suck on the panties.”
“Raython did.”
“Fuck you, I did not! I licked one panty-“
“You brought it back to the dorm afterwards though-“
“I ain’t suck on it!”
A fight broke out. In the dark, Avery couldn’t see who was involved. There was a flurry of punches, shouts of ‘come at me, then!’ and ‘try me, bro!’ but soon enough it was done. Avery couldn’t even tell who fought — Raython exchanged punches with someone, but that only lasted a moment and was more friendly than a real fight. But the players bumped into each other, sparking a real fight. Avery was right there in the melee. His heart raced. In the dark, fists flew willy-nilly, and more than one gigantic hulking linebacker rammed into him accidentally.
Yet Avery didn’t want to find his way out of the crowd. Everywhere he looked and everyplace he flailed his hands, all he gripped was sweat-dripping muscles, hairy flesh and jockstraps that Avery was desperate to get his hands on.
“Come at me, then bro!” someone shouted, as a brief fight erupted.
“Fuck you, man, no fighting in the locker room!” Jimmy shouted as the other shadowy player got up and stalked off towards the showers. Jimmy wagged his fat cock in that player’s direction. He scoffed. As the team captain, it was up to him to make sure they didn’t fight in the locker room. He sighed and glared at his teammates.
The remaining players were crammed in so close together that Avery could barely breathe. He was short, especially for a gymnast, so on most of the football players, Avery’s face was even with their nipple lines or even lower than that. Since the players were crammed into a tiny part of the locker room, Avery was pinned between their slabs of sweaty meat. He stuck his tongue out and everywhere he turned, he lapped up a fresh batch of freshly sweat-dappled muscle.
“Fuck you, Jimmy! You thought we would win! You promised it-“
“Oh grow up, Tony! I’m the team captain, of course I said we would win if we worked hard and played our best,” Jimmy said. “What kinduva team captain would say anything else?” He put his hands on his hips. Avery managed to squeeze through the players until he was behind Jimmy, whose sweaty back pressed against Avery’s face. Without thinking about it, Avery’s hand began loosely caressing the light blond hairs of the small of Jimmy’s back. When Jimmy didn’t protest, his fingers moved lower, playing with the moist funk of Jimmy’s asscrack.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be our team captain anymore!”
“After the season is over?! There’s not even any point to having a team captain anymore. There’s no more games,” Jimmy said.
“The cheerleaders are going to the basketball team party. The basketball team barely did any better than we did, and they’re all gonna get blowjobs-“
“We were invited to the same party,” Jimmy said. “Come on, guys-” Jimmy bristled and tensed up as Avery’s finger brushed over his asshole, his tight, dark, funky hole. His voice cut off and broke.
“We can get you off!” Fred shouted, and the other gymnasts all cheered.
The football players exchanged odd glances in the dark. It looked like some of them had forgotten the gymnasts were here. Avery realized only just now that more than a few of his fellow gymnasts were stroking off the football players in the dimly-lit locker room. A few of the football players let out some nervous laughter. One of them walked away, shaking his head as he headed to the showers.
But most of the team remained. Avery couldn’t believe this was happening. His hand roamed from Jimmy’s ass to his crotch. Avery’s heart skipped a beat as he gripped that thick shaft.
“Uh… Is this… okay?” Jimmy asked, directing the question at his teammates. There was a chorus of sharp breaths as the football players gasped. They looked at each other, raising their eyebrows, questioning who was going to give in to this and who was going to go take a shower.
No one actually answered Jimmy, but since no one — including Jimmy himself — walked away, the answer was apparently yes, at least for those jocks who hadn’t already left (a few had). Someone let out a long, low groan that provoked laughter in the other players.
“Who was that? Huh? Someone really likes it!”
“That was Raython, I’m sure of it.”
“Guess again, motherfucker. It was Tuck.”
“No it wasn’t. The guy on my dick ain’t even do it very good, nothing personal.” That was Tuck, the left tackle, who gasped then as the gymnast on his dick fell to his knees and swallowed his dick all the way down to the root.
“Ah, shit they doin’ it now! They doin’ it!”
One by one, the football players each said it was no big deal. Even Jimmy said it, though his voice quavered and his body tensed like he didn’t entire believe that. Or maybe he was so horny that his body tensed beneath Avery’s grasp. His dick throbbed.
Either one drop of precum escaped from Jimmy’s cock, or maybe it was a droplet of sweat. Regardless, Avery felt it coat Jimmy’s shaft and Avery’s fingers, lubing his hand up.
Something had changed then. Avery sensed it, and he knew everyone else had sensed it too — this jockstrap raid had become a circlejerk. The jockstraps themselves tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Someone was already getting someone else off, Avery could hear the moist suckling sounds.
“Ah, goddamn, it’s true what they say about men throating better than females… fuck…”
Avery dropped to his knees to start throating as well He was so short that when he went all the way to the ground as he usually would, he was too short. He could have crawled like that between Jimmy’s legs and Jimmy’s balls wouldn’t have dragged on Avery’s back — Jimmy was just too tall.
So Avery had to stretch his head upright, on his knees in front of Jimmy. He still had to strain to reach Jimmy’s cock, which was just slightly hard. It twitched as though trying to run away from Avery’s mouth when he kissed it on the tip.
“Oh, damn, my guy is makin’ out with it,” Jimmy said, with one muscled arm covering his eyes even though he was in a darkened locker room so he couldn’t see anyway. He giggled nervously like a little boy. The other players were reacting similarly — all except Raython, who reacted like he did this all the time.
“C’mon,” Raython said, “Go deeper…” He groaned and moaned as he did so. Avery couldn’t tell who was licking Raython’s shaft, but whoever it was gurgled as Raython’s cock rammed down his throat.
But Jimmy was too ginger about this to do anything like that. He flailed his hands above Avery’s head as though he wanted to start guiding him but didn’t want to touch him, like Avery’s short hair would remind him that the person tasting his cock was not a girl.
By now Jimmy’s cock was hard as stone. It throbbed and pulsated in Avery’s mouth, and it twitched as though it had a mind of its own. It communicated its desire to Avery through its vibrations in Avery’s hungry throat.
“Holy hell…”
“I was not expectin’ practice to end like this…”
Even in the dark, Avery could tell that Jimmy was red-faced, his chest and neck ruddy as pleasure wafted through his body. He suspected that Jimmy would have never agreed if the lights weren’t off in the locker room.
One of Avery’s hands snaked out without him thinking about it and grabbed the muscular booty of one of the players standing nearby. Avery moaned as he felt another pair of sweaty asscheeks, which twitched nervously beneath his touch.
He moved down to Jimmy’s balls, which were heavy and low-hanging. They smelled rank with sweat right now, though that scent was mostly indistinguishable from the locker room itself. Avery made as much noise as he could because it made the football players laugh — a deep, boisterous chorus of laughter that echoed in the locker room — and the other gymnasts joined in.
“Ah fuck, he slurpin’ on my balls now,” Jimmy murmured. Some of the other jocks laughed at his shocked tone.
Soon the locker room was filled with the deafening roar of loud suckling, moist bubbling sounds and wet choking as the gymnasts sputtered on massive jock cockmeat sliding down their throat. More than a few of the football players made plenty of noise too, moaning softly, cutting themselves off because no one — save Raython, who was shameless — wanted to seem like they were really into this.
But the sharp gasps and hyperventilating made it clear how enjoyable this was for the players, including Jimmy, who felt up his own nipples now.
Avery guided Jimmy’s hand from his chest to Avery’s own head. Jimmy instinctively gripped him tight and slammed his dick all the way down. They both groaned, but then Jimmy pulled away like he hadn’t meant to do that.
“Damn, why couldn’t you have long hair like a girl?”
Avery wanted to explain why, but his mouth was full of ballsack. He had had long hair in high school, but it made him look like a girl from behind and the football jocks had teased him so much he cut his hair. It wasn’t conducive to serious gymnastics either.
He gargled on the balls in his mouth, making a loud, somewhat nasty sound that caused the football players to all laugh. Only Jimmy didn’t laugh, because he threw his head back and moaned.
He wasn’t paying attention, which was perfect for Avery’s new plan. He took ahold of Jimmy’s hand again. Before, he had guided it to his head so Jimmy could really get it down his throat, though Jimmy had been uncomfortable with that. This time, however, Jimmy was busy moaning as his sensitive balls bounced and dripped sweat into Avery’s mouth.
So Avery guided Jimmy’s hand to his buddy, who was the dark-haired wide receiver George. Jimmy didn’t seem to notice as he clutched his teammate’s muscled back, and his hand was guided down to George’s ass.
Both Jimmy and George realized what was happening at the same moment. They both yelped and jumped. Jimmy drew his hand away, and Avery giggled.
Avery kept his mouth in position beneath Jimmy’s juicy balls, but then he moved his tongue back as he slid between Jimmy’s legs. Avery’s tongue ran along Jimmy’s sensitive taint, causing a shudder to run up his spine.
“Ah, damn, that tickles…”
The sweat here was fresh. It was salty and grimy, and it made Avery’s own cock pulsate in his hands. He writhed and Jimmy must have felt similarly, because his knees buckled and he nearly fell over.
But Avery didn’t stop there. He continued licking Jimmy’s taint as though he wanted to lick right through the skin. Then he slipped through Jimmy’s legs and came up, tongue-first on the other side.
That meant his face dived between Jimmy’s asscheeks. Jimmy wasn’t a very hairy jock overall, but his ass had plenty of fine blond fur. As soon as his tongue ran over Jimmy’s sensitive asshole, Jimmy bent over and moaned. His teammates laughed at him, but no one could quite see what was happening so they didn’t know that Avery was giving a rimjob.
Jimmy had clearly never had anyone lick his ass before. He gasped in shock with every lap of Avery’s tongue on that sensitive hole, and he writhed as though it hurt when Avery finally entered his ass. He backed his hips up, penetrating himself with Avery’s tongue.
The sweaty ass-funk of Jimmy’s unwashed body coated Avery’s mouth. He loved licking a big macho straight man’s asshole because it always tasted so nasty in a perfect way — it tasted like pure manhood, like Avery had taken all of the things that make a man manly and put them in a blender, then chugged it by the mouthful.
“I don’t know ’bout y’all,” Raython said with a groan. He loudly smacked his gymnast’s ass. “But I’m gonna stick this guy in the ass. That okay wit’ you, queer?” He laughed.
“What?!”
“You serious, Raython?”
In the darkness, Avery couldn’t see, but it sounded like Raython wasn’t waiting for the approval of his teammates. A moist slapping sound filled the air, and Avery could tell that it was Raython’s uncut cock sliding into someone’s ass.
“Hell yeah, I’s serious,” Raython said. “Real men don’t care what they stick it in, y’know. When yo’ balls is full, you gotta drain ’em somewhere.”
“No way!”
“Uh-huh.”
Raython cackled. “What ’bout you, Jimmy? You a real man or what?” The laughter vanished. Avery stuck his tongue deep in Jimmy’s ass as he reached around to stroke Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy bristled and his spine arched. Avery got the impression that Raython was Jimmy’s chief rival for the team captaincy next year, so this was just the most recent of Raython’s attempts to degrade Jimmy’s manhood.
“Fuck you, Raython, I ain’t squeamish. You know that. I took sloppy ninths on that fat chick, remember-?”
“Yeah, that ain’t nothin’, Jimmy.”
“Nothin’?! There was cum oozing out of her, man! It was dripping off my balls in clumps!”
“You drew the short straw!”
“Yeah, I know, but if I was squeamish I would’ve backed out. And I am gonna stick my guy in the ass. He been beggin’ me for it,” Jimmy said. He roared and pulled his ass away from Avery’s face. Before Avery even realized what was happening, he was bent over the thin bench between the lockers, and Jimmy began to shove his dick in.
Avery was focused on two things — first, he needed to relax his ass so Jimmy could get really deep inside him in it. Second, he needed to balance himself on the narrow bench, at one end of which sat a player, the wide receiver George. He faced away from Avery as he allowed some gymnast to get him off.
Since Avery was behind George, every time Jimmy slammed his dick into Avery’s ass, that forced Avery’s face forward. The motion planted Avery’s entire head in the meaty asscrack of George’s body, which was hairier and thicker than Jimmy’s.
He stuck his tongue out. He would have tried to lick George’s ass, maybe even given him a rimjob while Jimmy rammed his cock into Avery’s ass, but Jimmy pounded so hard Avery couldn’t keep still. All he could do was leave his tongue poking out so as he moved he covered George’s asscheeks and his lower back in his spit. He wasn’t even sure if George noticed — the players and the gymnasts were still crammed into a small area, so hands and tongues and muscled bodies bumped into each other all over the place.
“Yeah, ram it in that ass!”
Then the sensations grew so intense Avery couldn’t even keep his tongue out anymore. Jimmy pounded into him, his gingerness diminishing with every thrust of his hips. He used one thick-fingered hand to keep Avery’s head low, and his other elevated Avery’s hips so they were at the perfect height.
Jimmy’s big throbbing cock slid in and out. The precum flowed like frothy champagne, rivulets of it dripping into and out of Avery’s ass. Jimmy slammed his cock over and over, grunting — his reluctance had switched to aggressive lust now that he needed to prove something to Raython, who pounded even harder.
“Ugh, I smell that…”
The smell of cum and santorum filled the air. Was that Raython? George? Someone else? Avery couldn’t tell. Someone shot a huge, ripe load that smelled so tasty Avery licked at the air, succeeding only in getting a tongue-load of George’s ass instead.
After that first person — whoever it was — came, the others followed suit quickly. It seemed no one had wanted to be first, but no one wanted to be last either. They sprayed their loads over their bottoms’s faces and down their throats, moaning and flexing their muscles as they did. More than a few of them even slapped hands with each other while orgasming and filling their bottoms up with cum.
“Yeah, take that shit! Swallow it!”
“Open up!’
“Gonna fill yo’ guts, boi. Gonna fill ’em up real good.”
The loudest was Raython, whose roaring and pounding on his chest could be heard over the satisfied gurgling of the others. He grunted as he sprayed his load inside his bottom’s hole, coating his guts in cum that dripped out and onto the floor.
The smell of cum seemed to trigger Jimmy, who moaned in disgust, then in pleasure as he ran headlong into his own orgasm. His dick tingled and quivered, sending waves of pleasure up from Avery’s prostate.
He and Jimmy both came then at once, Avery shooting his load onto the floor and into his own hand, while Jimmy filled him up. “Ah, damn…” For the first time, Jimmy stopped gingerly avoiding touching Jimmy’s body. His knees buckled, and he leaned forward until his massive chest rested on Avery’s bare back.
If Avery weren’t mid-orgasm, it would have been painful because Jimmy was so big. His quarterback muscles pressed down on Avery, which forced Jimmy’s dick in so deep Avery tried to howl at the intense waves of sensations wracking his body — he couldn’t howl, however, because he couldn’t take a deep breath.
“Yeah, take it… Take it all…”
The cum flowed into him like water from a hose. He and Jimmy both moaned. Jimmy’s chest rattled where it dragged against Avery’s back, and Avery could hear Jimmy’s orgasmic grunt through his fleshy chest in addition to through his ears.
Jimmy lowered his head as he came, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care that his face was planted in George’s muscled back. Finally Jimmy’s cock twitched one last time, sending a final wave of bliss through Avery’s body.
Then Jimmy pulled off. His cock plopped out with an audible moist sound that made Avery shake with desire.
“Well, uh-” Jimmy’s voice was cut off by the lights flickering back on.
For a moment, both teams were visible. The football jocks were standing and seating, while the gymnasts were on the floor, hunched over, bent down, kneeling, groaning, writhing as they swallowed the cum that had just been sprayed over them.
“Hey!” Coach Marshall stood there, his face red. He blew his whistle. “Hey! Gymnasts, get outta here! I told you could come in and steal their jockstraps! I ain’t say you could steal their virtue! Get the fuck out!”
Avery felt a surge of fear, like he was going to get in trouble — he had always been a good student. He wasn’t used to being in trouble. But he saw that his teammates weren’t getting worked up. They slowly cleaned themselves and headed towards the door behind Coach Marshall.
“Football players! Get in the shower! Now! On the double!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, so loud spittle dripped from his lips. “We’re having a team meeting in the shower, and I’m turning the hot water off!”
The players grumbled, but they jumped into action. They were all naked already, so they hurried towards the shower, where a few of their teammates were already cleaning themselves off. The shower area was still steamy for now, because Marshall hadn’t yet turned the hot water off.
Avery and the other gymnasts just giggled and headed towards the door. As Avery passed Coach Marshall, he tickled his crotch and felt his middle-aged cock twitch underneath his own jockstrap. Avery had thought Marshall was intensely arousing since the first moment he laid eyes on him.
“Hey! I ain’t part of the jockstrap raid!” Coach Marshall said. Avery and his fellow gymnasts giggled. Coach Marshall’s authoritarian, drill-sergeant-vibe vanished like he didn’t know how to interact with non-jock men. “You had better not do this without permission, again, boys. I give permission for all jockstrap raids. Only me.”
“Well, when do we get to do it again?”
“Yeah, what about the wrestling team?”
Coach Marshall opened his mouth as though to bark out some orders. Then he nodded his head thoughtfully. “Yeah. Fine. If the wrestling team loses next weekend, you can do a jockstrap raid on them. And the baseball finals are the week after that…”
The gymnasts cheered over Coach Marshall’s recitation of the sports teams at GHU and their final matches, and Avery smiled. He thought he was going to enjoy his freshman year.

The Alpha in a Wrestling Singlet

Avery is summoned into a steamy sauna by a wrestling coach, cuz one of his athletes is in a rage-filled fury over a ref’s bad call, and only Avery’s tender touch — and his mouth — can calm this livid alpha! That’s cuz Marco’s a hothead with a need to dominate other men, which is something Avery is eager to sign up for.

Can Avery get Marco to calm down long enough to spill his seed?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery struggled to remain professional. He was in the men’s locker room at the Cornerside Gym near the GHU campus. The smell of sweat filled the air even though no one was in here. It stank of manhood. Avery had an urge to just go through smelling things, checking out the shower where it sounded like someone was still cleaning himself off. The locker room was full of clothes scattered over the floor. That’s because there was a wrestling match going on. The wrestlers had changed, gone out for the match and left their clothes behind.
That was the source of the smell that Avery craved. As a masseur working for the Cornerside Gym, he had to stay professional. He was not hired to sniff the jocks of this college wrestling team.
“Just wait here,” Coach Thickman said when they came to the physical therapy work-space at the back of the locker room, connected to it by a hallway. His bristly mustache shook. Avery suspected that Thickman was supposed to give him more instructions, but Thickman just walked away. “The match is over. Marco will be here soon.”
Avery didn’t know why he was here. He had been hired to give someone named Marco a massage, but Avery had a feeling that was just an excuse to get him here. Marco was probably going to ask for Avery to jerk him off.
That was also part of being a masseur for the Cornerside Gym. Avery was expected to — and was eager to — fulfill that part of his duties. Avery greatly admired the male form, and the Cornerside Gym was full of men with the most admirable of physiques. It was a serious gym, men only, home to real athletes and bodybuilders, and of course, this regional champion wrestling team.
A series of loud whoops and hollers filled the locker room. The sound echoed and resonated. They were angry, upset, Avery gathered, they must not have done well in the match. There were grunts, recriminations, possibly some almost-fights. Avery had to fight back his urge to sneak out there and watch. The physical therapy room was set back a little, with lockable doors since it was accessible from both the men’s and women’s locker rooms. Avery would have to step well out into the hall to see anything. He wondered if he’d get in trouble.
Then Marco entered with a scowl on his face. He was short, but he was a heavyweight, his body packed with muscle and body hair, which extended all the way to his shoulders. He had swarthy skin and dark eyes, with a curly mess of tangled black hair. His hawkbrown nose was hooked and regal — he was a dark hawkbrown, a darkhawk, as they say, not that Avery ascribes to that kind of thing. It had a crooked bent to it, like it had been broken recently.
“Yo.” Marco sneered. “Man!” He threw his hands in the air like he was upset. He turned back around. “Coach! I-” He took one step out of the door and rammed right into the beefy chest of Coach Thickman, who pushed him back into the physical therapy room.
“What?”
“Lemme go talk to that ref, coach. He made a mistake.” Marco’s voice was clipped, angry, almost sinister. He had a thick New York accent with a deep and guttural stawk in a barking baritone to it that made Avery shiver with delight. Marco straightened the tight straps of his wrestling singlet. His chest hair was matted to his skin with sweat. His pecs and his biceps and shoulders and back all kept rippling as though it took every muscle he had to adjust his cock in the crotch of his singlet and stretch then release each strap of the singlet.
He ran his fingers through the thick black mane of hair, which clung flat to his head cuz he was so sweaty and it was hot and humid in here. A few tufts suggested he normally combed it up, and he had a voluminous head of hair, so it probably looked great on him like that. Pity he had a harsh, cocky-asshole of a face, a very punchable face, handsome but you’d never see him play a good guy in a movie.
“No. You’ll hit him.”
Marco scowled. “No I won’t.” But he mean-mugged at Avery as if that was a lie. He again stretched the fabric of his sweat-soaked singlet. The GHU colors were silver and red, so there was a silver U whose lower part stretched to his crotch. His fat cock protruded against the fabric. Avery could see that it had fallen out of his jockstrap, probably because he kept scratching it and rearranging his junk in his singlet. He sniffled and rubbed his nose. He might have been sniffing the hand that just arranged his cock and balls in his singlet. “I won’t hit the pansy.” He glanced at Avery, then looked down at his feet and again rearranged his dick in his singlet. “I don’t hit pansies.”
“You can’t hit someone every time you lose, Marco. You said-“
“Lemme out there!”
“You can’t hit the ref!”
“Fine, lemme fuck the slut. Where’s that slut-?” Marco paced, his hefty ass jiggling up and down in his singlet. It was riding up in his asscrack, so he pulled the fabric out of it as he paced. “You said I could have a slut-“
Coach Thickman slapped Marco across the face. A loud ringing sound boomed and echoed through the locker room. The moist sweatiness of Marco’s skin could be heard in the slap. Thickman shoved Marco back into the physical therapy room. “Don’t make me lay down the law, boy. I let you have a lotta leeway. You know I can’t bring you a female, the university is lookin’ into that shit, I could get fired if they found out. They wouldn’t even let me keep a cheerleader calendar in my office, cuz it could give you boys stiffies you can’t control, you gonna go groping waitresses at the Waffle House and shit, damn-“
“That wasn’t me!” Marco said.
“Shut yo’ fool mouth, sumbitch!” Thickman said. He jabbed a finger in Marco’s face. “You get’cha temper under control!” He sucked on his teeth, mean-mugging Marco harshly. “You got that Latin blood, that’s what that is. You got pepper under yo’ collar.” He feigned like he was gonna smack Marco in the balls, and Marco flinched. Thickman laughed and patted him on the cheek of the face, then the cheek of the ass. “So slow yo’ roll, whiteboy.”
“I told you it ain’t my fault!” Marco shouted. He pounded on his chest. Avery detected a casual stawk in his voice, like he was from New York or pretended to be. “Lemme out there, I ain’t a pussy. I can kick that blond motherfucker’s ass too, that last one I wrestled. He wrestled like a rank coward, like he don’t know nothing, Coach, swear to Christ! He over there in the other locker room, right? C’mon, he ain’t gonna bitch me out. No way. I ain’t lookin’ like a sloppy punk-ass sumbitch! I’ll go right over there, coach, swear to fuckin’ Christ! I’ll rip his goddamn nuts off and shove ‘em down that ref’s throat! I keeps it real, you know that!”
“Marco!” Coach Thickman barked. He smacked Marco again, and Marco stepped towards him like they were going to fight. Thickman pushed Marco, who was red-faced and fuming now, unable to stand still. He came at Thickman as though trying to pick a fight with someone behind him, even though there was no one there.
“You promised, Coach, you said you’d get me a girl! You said that! I ain’t playin’, I ain’t that kinda man! That fuckhead from Portsmouth State, man, I swear, you know I could have kicked his ass if it wasn’t for that damn ref!”
“Marco, shut up!” Thickman wrapped one arm around Marco’s head and put him in a tight headlock. Marco screamed and twisted, trying to get out of it, but he ended up only ensconced more tightly in Thickman’s arms. Thickman shouted incomprehensibly. Marco was bent backwards, with made his sweat-soaked crotch bulge aim upward. Avery’s eyes were drawn to it.
Marco was uncut. Avery could see that through the singlet. He licked his lips.
There was a long awkward pause. Avery was both nervous because this had turned into a very angry encounter for no comprehensible reason and aroused because Marco’s massive body rubbed against Coach Thickman’s. Marco’s sweat rubbed off on Thickman’s muscled flesh, which made his white polo shirt translucent.
“You okay? You better now?” Thickman asked when there had been a few moments of silence. Marco’s glistening chest heaved up and down, his pecs rippling under the straps of his singlet.
“Yeah. Fine. Lemme go.” Marco scoffed as though that should have been obvious, like he had never lost his temper. Thickman let him go. Marco again straightened his singlet. He glanced at Avery as though he hadn’t noticed him until now. “Man, coach-“
“Shut ya face, Marco.”
Marco bit his lip and looked down. His muscles were tense. He opened his mouth to complain a few more times, then stopped.
Thickman crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted me to keep you out of trouble, right? You wanted me to make sure you didn’t get kicked off the team and arrested?”
“Man… Just… I won’t hit him.” Marco didn’t sound like he believed that even as he said it.
“Who? Some random lady in the parking lot?”
Marco sucked on his teeth. “No!” Coach Thickman glared at him. Marco cleared his throat. “The ref, man.”
“He’s gone, Marco. The only person you’ll find out there you can hit is maybe a lady in the parking lot.”
“I can go after that blond fuck from Portsmouth State. He wrestled like a fucking pussy, Thickman-“
Thickman slapped him again. “Do not call me Thickman, you little shit. You speak to me with respect.”
“Sorry, Coach.” Marco shifted his weight between his feet.
Thickman looked at Avery. “This is Marco. He’s a fucking moron with a temper problem. His idiot brain is always picking fights-“
“Man, Coach-” He sucked on his teeth.
“Shut up. Every time he loses he throws a little baby hissyfit and punches someone. Then I gotta clean up his messes with the police, with his teammates, with the dean, with the goddamn rabbi that one time-“
“It ain’t a hissyfit, shut up! I ain’t a fuckin’ pussy, coach, I’ll kick anyone’s ass, swear to Christ! I’ll come at those motherfuckers with e’rything — I’ll punch a Jew if he comes at me, you know that, I keep it real, Coach! Motherfuckers are always comin’ at me-“
“Shut up!” Thickman roared. “Which motherfuckers, Marco? There’s no motherfuckers here to hit. You just lost a match. You can’t get arrested every time that happens.”
“I ain’t get arrested every time it happens!”
“Sixty percent of the time!”
“Not every time! That ain’t every time!”
Thickman sighed. “You said you needed to get a nut out, Marco-“
“Not a man!”
“You specifically said you didn’t care! We agreed on this! You said you ain’t care cuz you a top. As long as you get ya dick wet, it don’t matter. Ah, coach, you don’t even know, where I come from, real man gotta stick his dick in someone, just fuck the shit outta her, or him, it’s all pink on the inside! I make any kinda bitch squeal!” Thickman did an exaggeratedly caveman-like impression. “Remember? The hood in Brooklyn.”
“I ain’t say that! I ain’t say that! I was just talkin’ ‘bout, y’know, my old ‘hood back in New York, coach. That’s how wise guys do it, y’know. They don’t care ‘bout males…” Marco’s voice trailed off. He looked at Avery like he had just noticed him there. “I mean… Yeah, hell yeah, I can do it. You ready, boy? I’m-a rock ya world.” He grabbed his dick through his singlet and shook it in Avery’s direction. “Wreck ya ass, boy. Like the old country.”
Thickman slapped him again. “What’d I say about that shit?” He lightly smacked Marco’s ass through that tight blue singlet. “Go’n cornhole him. He’s into it.” He looked at Avery, who eagerly nodded. Thickman smacked Marco’s ass again, making his cheeks jiggle like Mount Aetna. “Go’n hurry up. Don’t hit him.”
“I won’t!” Then Marco was quiet for a long time, chewing on his lower lip. His anger seemed to have diminished, but his chest still heaved, soaked in aggression-fueled sweats. “What happened to that girl?”
Thickman sighed. “I tol’ you that ain’t happenin’, on account of two reasons. Firstly, you lost and I ain’t bringin’ you no girl when you lose.”
“Man…”
“Secondly, you called that girl a bitch and a slut and a ho. You tried to get her to suck ya brother’s dick.”
“So? She could’ve done it.”
“Marco… You told me you couldn’t concentrate cuz the girls around here are prudes. You said you’d stop getting in trouble if you-“
“Coach-!”
“You said that! You said you needed to drain ya nuts! You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout double-teamin’ some slut with your brother! Who ain’t even in this state, dumbass! What’d you think she was gonna do? Hang out in here while your brother drives for eight hours to get a blowjob?”
“Man, shut up!”
“She said you were too mean and too hairy and you said you took a shower but she didn’t think you took a shower and you fucked her too rough and you got a dick that looks like a goblin!”
“She did not!”
“She did! She said all that! She said she chargin’ extra for you next time. I don’t blame. Son, you nasty. Get right wit’ God.”
Marco hung his head. He shrugged and sucked on his teeth. “Whatever, that bitch was a fuckin’ prude, and she had a stank ass.”
“She had a stank ass? Shut up, Marco. Just go stick the pansy. Don’t hit him.”
“I won’t,” Marco said. He looked at Avery and shrugged. “Alright, then. You, uh… How, y’know, how you wanna do this?”
Coach Thickman scoffed. “I thought you knew how to use ya dick like a champion, Marco? Remember? Like in the old country? Of Brooklyn? You can get ya nut off in-“
“Shut up. Get outta here. I don’t wanna do it wit’ ya old-ass watching me.”
“Keep talkin’ ‘bout my ass, boy, you’ll find your tongue deep inside it,” Thickman said. “I’m-a wait right outside, so you ain’t tempted to start punching.”
“I wouldn’t. Punching sissies is like punching girls. You ain’t allowed to do that,” Marco said indignantly as Thickman went to the hall. He faced towards the locker room. Marco looked back at Avery. Despite Marco’s apparent confidence, his face looked tense and nervous, and he yet again rearranged his cock in his singlet and ran the same hand through his mop of hair.
“That’s why she said you stink,” Avery said.
“What?” Marco said with a snort.
“You keep touching your balls,” Avery said. “Then your hair, or you rub your nose. It makes you smell like ballsweat.
Marco snorted again. He threw his eyebrows way back. “What? Oh.” He grunted. “Okay. Thanks.”
Avery nodded. “Be gentle with girls.”
“Man, shit, shut up, you dunno nothin,” Marco said.
Avery walked right up to him, ignoring his fluttering heart. The scent of Marco’s post-match sweat filled the air. It was intense because it clung both to his body hair — which was substantial — and his singlet. Avery planted his tongue on Marco’s chest right above the edge of his singlet, which Marco began to remove.
“I done this before, man,” Marco said. “It ain’t shameful for me, y’know, cuz I’s on top. I ain’t no less of a man, nuh-uh.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “That’s how it is in th old country. Italy.”
“Of course,” Avery said. He dropped to his knees as Marco’s singlet landed on the floor. He wore a plain jockstrap, which Avery removed, making his thick, uncut cock pop out. He had a heavy pair of low-hangers too, which Avery cupped in one hand.
“Yeah, there it is, man, swallow that shit,” he said. He smacked Avery across the face with it. “Is it the biggest you’ve ever seen?”
“Hell yeah it is,” Avery said, following the shaft with his mouth. He stuck his tongue out until Marco held still long enough for him to lick it. The unwashed taste of body sweat and sun-drenched male flesh hit Avery’s tongue, making him moan. It wasn’t actually the biggest cock Avery had ever seen — it wasn’t even the biggest — but it was plenty big and Avery thought Marco’s arrogance was alluring, so he said it was the biggest. “By far the biggest, man, for sure.” He chased it with his tongue.
“I know,” he said. He sniffled like it didn’t matter. He kept thwacking Avery over the face with it though, emphasizing how it was almost as long as Avery’s entire face. It was thick and meaty too, and it was indeed uncut, just as Avery suspected when he saw it through the singlet.
Avery took that foreskin-clad tip in hand, and he started stroking it. He didn’t often get to jerk off uncut men, so it was a nice change of pace. He liked the way it seemed to have excess skin as he stroked it up and down, but then it grew more taut as it firmed up under the grip of his hands and his tongue. The funky smell of Marco’s dick got even more intense when it hardened up and that cocktip came out to play.
As a series of aggressive moans came outta Marco’s throat, Avery slathered spit up and down it, slobbering saliva all over the shaft. Marco bristled, shuffling his weight between his feet. Marco’s face showed his anxiety and his surprise at how good this felt, but he scoffed like he wasn’t impressed and kept his eyes away from Avery’s.
Avery said, as though the answer should have been obvious, “You’re Italian, right?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. He thwacked Marco’s fat erection over his face. Each time it hit Avery’s tongue and bounced off, it jiggled and roped over his nose and his forehead. And each time Marco twitched like he had seen a ghost. His cock pulsated atop Avery’s face. “So you’ll do it old-country style? Or not? Doesn’t matter to me, that’s just how real Italians do it. It’s a machismo thing.”
He sniffled and shifted his weight between his feet. He wiped his face off. “Hell yeah,” he grunted. “‘Course I do it that way, slut. I know what it means.” He sniffled. “I’m from Brooklyn, dawg. We keep it real.”
“Oh, great, okay,” Avery said. His heart thumped. Was this really working? He turned around and aimed his ass for Marco’s cock. “What’s that Italian saying? A virile man makes his bottom feel it all. I don’t remember it in Italian.”
“That’s right.” He spoke in stuttering Italian, a language he obviously had only a dim knowledge of. “Uh-huh. That’s how you say that.”
He was so focused on his dick sliding into Avery’s ass that he barely seemed to notice his hand being brought around to Avery’s front. The heat emanating from his sweat-soaked chest hit Avery’s smooth back, as his cock rammed its way up Avery’s backside. That sent a spasm of pleasure to wrack Avery’s body, and he let out a harsh, jagged moan of a breath. Avery dragged Marco’s to his own cock and had Marco start stroking, just as his manhood filled Avery’s ass up all the way.
“Ah shit!” Marco yelped and backed his hand away when he realized he was giving Avery a reacharound. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, I thought you were going to gimme a reacharound? That’s how the toughest tops do it in prison and stuff, y’know, but that’s fine,” Avery said with a grin. “That’s how mafia guys do it. I thought you were from New York? They’ve got old-country Italians there, I just assumed you were into that.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. Yeah,” Marco said with an indignant sniffle. His hand moved slowly back to Avery’s cock, and he gulped as he touched it. “Yeah, ‘course. That’s how they do it in the old country. It ain’t, y’know, America is… things is different over there.”
“Your cock is so big,” Avery said with a moan. He leaned his head back, which both allowed him to grind his ass onto Marco’s cock while licking his chest hair as well as gave Marco easy access to Avery’s cock. Avery got swallowed up in the thickness of his arms and his chest.
It was an awkward reacharound, but Avery didn’t mind. The nervous yet cocky sounds emanating from Marco’s throat made the awkwardity worth it. Avery turned his face to the side so he could suck all the wrestling sweat off Marco’s chest, while his body squirmed and experienced Marco’s increasingly harsh ramming.
Soon he slammed his dick in all the way with each thrust of his hips. At first he seemed to want to do it hard enough to make Avery tell him to slow down, but when it became clear that wouldn’t happen, he stopped trying. Instead he closed his eyes, bit his lip and slammed his dick in and out as hard as he could. His balls slapped agsinst Avery’s asscheeks.
But Avery wasn’t surprised that Marco had trouble keeping a girl after fucking her — he was not gentle, and he wasn’t aggressive in an obviously good way either. Avery loved it because he liked a little pain, and he thought Marco’s machismo was hot. Girls, Avery thought, would find it a lot less appealing. That, he thought, must be why Marco was so angry and high-strung.
That and the smelling-like-ballsweat thing.
“Alright, boy, gonna fill you up,” Marco said with a grunt. He held Avery’s body in place with one hand while his other stroked Avery off. He had no sooner warned Avery when his balls crawled up in his sac. He stopped moving for just a moment, grunted in Avery’s ear and then let go of him.
Hot cum sprayed into Avery, great arcing jets of it that filled him up and turned his prostate on. Before Marco had even finished cumming, Avery was having his own orgasm — luckily Marco didn’t notice Avery’s cum coating his fingers — as the most intense sensations of his life ran up his spine.
It was a moment that seemed to last forever, Avery being filled at one end while his own cock sprayed onto Marco’s pudgy fingers. His hairy Italian muscles rippled behind Avery’s back, and his hot breath condensed on Avery’s neck.
Marco pulled away the moment he was done, so quickly that the last few drops of his cum landed on Avery’s back. They dripped down his asscrack and onto the floor of the filthy locker room. He sighed like he had thought he might not be able to do that.
“Alright, Coach Thickman, I done it,” Marco said. He snorted and jogged in place, half-hard dick bouncing as it slowly limpened.
Thickman walked in and groaned at the sight of his hard cock. “Boy, cover yourself up.”
But Marco just glared first at his singlet and jockstrap, then at Coach Thickman, then at Avery, then back at Thickman. “Nah,” he said like a cocky jerk. He walked towards the locker room, stark-naked. “I gotta take a shower.”
Thickman followed him trying to make him put clothes on, but Marco ignored him. Avery didn’t mind. He stayed there with Marco’s jockstrap and singlet, sniffing it and bringing himself to a second orgasm that was so intense it was almost painful. He spurted his second wad onto the pile of sweat-soaked clothes Marco had worn in here and forgotten about on the floor.
When he was done, Avery gathered up the singlet and the jockstrap, he hurried out of there. Those, he thought, were going to give him orgasms for many nights to come.