jacks-new-dick-2

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #77

💦💦💦.

“Damn right, bro, come over here and fuck Tyler right next to us,” Jeff said to Finn as Fred, the fifth car on the train, entered him effortlessly, patting the top of the couch which he was bent over. Fred was grinding away on his back•thrusting ass in no time flat. “Oh fuck yeah, Fred, there, that’s the fucking spot!”

💦💦💦.

“Let’s fucking do it then,” Finn said eagerly, pulling Tyler to his feet. Then taking him by his boner and leading him around the couch, he added quietly, “Sorry for partying, stud, but you’re absolutely hot•as•fuck. You already know that, though.” “Not so fast,” Max chimed in mischievously from below Finn’s swinging junk, laughing. “One rule still applies - you both have to take a shot before doing the dirty deed. He pointed Finn toward the bar - with which Tyler had already become intimately familiar - then lay back down on the floor behind the couch, almost underneath the fuckers and soon•to•be•fuckers with a great view of the action, his head in Mitchell’s lap, pillowed by the ginger’s fat, cushy cock.

After Finn had downed some bourbon•something, and Tyler had opted for a beer shot, Finn again led the wood•nymph by his rock•hard sixteen•year•old cock to the backside of the couch, stepping over a snoring George on the way and pausing to check out his still•ample flaccid cock, as well as to read the lettering on George’s chest: ‘FUCKING PROM QUEEN.’ Below the words, Mitchell had drawn a charicature of an erect penis ejaculating, complete with pubic hair, big swinging balls and semen taking flight. The artwork covered George’s whole mid•section.

Finn noted that, minus the artwork, the twins did indeed look exactly alike, and hot, blond versions of Max without quite as much, though still plenty of, penis. The only differences he noted were due to their present circumstances: George’s fat, scrumptious dick was soft and sleeping, while Fred’s dick was rock•hard, which he’d seen before Fred buried it in Jeff’s ass; George was drooling peacefully, whereas Fred was grunting and spluttering furiously as he hammered the other transfer•jock. He’d be more than happy to fuck or bend over for either of the twins...after Tyler, of course, and Jeff.

To Tyler’s surprise, Finn bent over the back of the sofa (and Max) himself, right next to Jeff, propped up on his forearms. “You fuck me first, Tyler. No sense in letting your killer hard•on go to waste. Besides, I want to keep you happy...and close.” Tyler, who had thought Finn was about to top him, didn’t argue with the big, beautiful first baseman. He immediately reached for the Astro•glide, then happily went to work lubing Finn’s beautiful blond•fringed (pink) asshole. ‘What a beautiful fucking crack,’ he thought as he stretched Finn’s surprisingly snug hole with two long fingers.

“What a beautiful fucking cock,” Mitchell whispered into Max’s ear as looked up at Finn’s heavy dangling dick. “And those huge nuts,” Max observed. “Fair warning, and just so you know,” Mitchell advised, “I’m probably going to want to stroke one out when that great big floppy starts flopping right in our faces.” “Cool,” Max said, “you can finish in my mouth if you want.” “10/4...but I probably won’t nut until Finn is fucking Jeff.” “Whenever is fine.”

As Tyler quickly fingered and stretched him, Finn, looking at Jeff, asked, “So, do you come here often?” Jeff laughed, replying, “Not before tonight, but this is my fifth time so far...and four dudes have already cum right here.” “Sounds like a veritable honey hole,” Finn said as he felt the swollen head of Tyler’s dick pushing into him. Fuck, but that kid felt good inside him.

“You doing OK?” Finn asked Jeff under his breath. “Crushing it,” Jeff assured him as Fred began driving him hard again, Fred’s balls slapping rhythmically against Jeff’s sweet ass. “Fred, who fucks like Max, which is to say great, is a golden shower aficionado, too,” Jeff knowingly informed Finn with an impish grin. “You don’t say,” Finn replied, chuckling. “Yep, it’s true,” Jeff assured him. “The only thing he got wrong,” Fred said, beaming, “is that I don’t fuck like Max, Max fucks like me.” “What can I say? I had a great teacher,” Max chimed in.

Finn leaned his face over to Jeff’s and kissed him deeply. They more•or•less continuously swapped saliva throughout the remainder of that double ass•fucking, during which they both got absolutely fucking hammered, in the best way possible.

Fred, of course, had a pretty good head start over Tyler. When his balls finally stopped slapping against Jeff’s ass and he exploded deep inside his partner, collapsing onto Jeff’s sweaty back💦, Jeff looked over at Finn, grinning, and announced, “You’re up, bro. You still hard enough?” Finn wasn’t still hard enough, but he could fix that PDQ.

Tyler slowed down upon Jeff’s announcement, as if he might withdraw, ready to yield Finn over to Jeff without nutting, even though Fred was still heaving and panting on Jeff’s back. “Unh unh, sport,” Finn declared, “you’re going to finish what you started. Jeff can wait, Tyler. You fuck me as long and hard as you need to, or at least as long as you want to.” “I’d like to fuck you all night,” Tyler responded, “but I can make do with a couple more minutes.”

Finn knew Tyler had just fucked Jeff a few minutes before he’d arrived - he had seen the still•wet cum in Tyler’s pubic hair when he opened the door - but he had no idea how many other loads, if any, Tyler might have deposited that night. He was up for whatever Tyler was up for and, as soon as he’d recharged after busting his nut in the not•so•tight•end, he planned to give that hot•as•fuck kid the fucking of his young life. He was glad he’d met Tyler (fifteen minutes earlier), he’d help keep his mind off his new•best•friend, whom he would be fucking soon enough, and from whom he wanted more than best•friendship.

Tyler did more than help keep Finn’s mind off his new•best•friend for the next couple of minutes: he fucked the daylights out of him; granted Finn was still almost an anal virgin, had been one until Coach had broken him in (gently) the night before, but Tyler was pounding him with renewed vigor since Finn had basically told Jeff to chill the fuck out, fucking him harder than Jeff had earlier that day - and it felt great to Finn, so great that he was a little disappointed when Tyler seized up and, gasping, erupted deep inside of him, blowing a huge load💦.

That young fucker sure could fuck, and he had been rewarded with a long, powerful orgasm. Tyler kept driving his cock into depths he shouldn’t have been able to reach throughout his climax until he simply could no longer push his dick forward, and by then Finn was rock•hard and again oozing copious amounts of precum. He was ready to play the caboose.

“Fucking bravo, Tyler,” Jeff said, and he wasn’t being sarcastic. “If that stud puts the wood to me half as well as you just did to him, I’m not gonna be able to walk for a fucking week.” Of course, Jeff might already have passed the point of being unable to walk for a week. After five ass•fuckers have worn your ass out and dumped five loads inside you, what real difference would one more ass•fucking make? Finn wanted to be the difference•maker, not to overtake Max’s place at Jeff’s side, which he knew was unrealistic, but to at least shoulder his way into the conversation he hoped was going on inside Jeff’s head. Finn didn’t see any reason he and Jeff shouldn’t have some kind of side deal in which they kept fucking each other on the down•low.

“You have to you take another shot first,” Max reminded Finn as he moved into position behind Jeff. “Jesus Christ, what are you, Max, the fucking hall monitor?” Finn griped good•naturedly, but he dutifully trudged over to the bar, sporting his thick leaking wood, and downed another shot of whiskey, no something added to that one. “What about you, Jeff, what do you want?” he asked. “He gets a pass,” Max said protectively, “or else he’d have had to take six shots on top of all the others he had to take earlier...and at least one of us wants some QT with him after this train pulls into the station.”

Finn saw Fred look sharply at Max, then quickly look away, and thought, ‘Uh oh, both brothers want Jeff’s big fat watermelon🍉dick up their butts, and little bro is tired of sharing.’ Finn knew for a fact that three guys (at least) wanted Jeff’s big fat watermelon🍉dick up their butts, but he’d be more than content with Tyler for the meantime, looking forward to Jeff plowing his hole in the baseball dugout on Tuesday night - three times - as Jeff had promised him earlier that day.

Jeff and Finn had flipped at mid•day, and Finn had then begged the tight•end to bone him again (before Max returned), but Jeff had been adamant about conserving his seed that day after an epic performance the night before. Finn had (reluctantly) agreed to bend Jeff over instead in exchange for Jeff’s agreement to fuck him three times in the dugout Tuesday night [#66]. As Jeff had put it at the time, ‘Just help me get better in touch with my own inner bottom today, and I’ll pay you back double.’ Finn, also anxious to get better in touch with his own inner bottom, had insisted on triple payback, and Jeff had agreed.

Finn was then thinking that maybe he’d been too greedy, and ought to settle for a pair of good ass•fuckings from Jeff on Tuesday, and hold the third in reserve...until, say, Wednesday. After all, as fucking hot (and humid) as it was that August, even at night, two sessions in the dugout would probably waste both of them. Finn had thought he might collapse from heat•stroke by the time Mitchell had finally finished boning the fuck out him, poolside at Coach’s, that afternoon. That had been the real reason Finn had crawled home after getting a quick post•fuck bite to eat with Mitchell. He felt re•energized now, though, and was ready to top Jeff for the third time that day.

“Finn, are you going to fuck me or just stand there playing switch•em all night?” Jeff demanded. “What’s switch•em?” Finn asked, curious. He’d never heard that phrase before. “You know,” Jeff replied, and then demonstrated, popping one thumb into his mouth and sticking the other up his ass, then switched them so that he was sucking the cum•covered thumb that had been up his ass, with the thumb he’d first sucked replacing the other in his butt, and then switched them one more time. “There, I think I got most of it, the third thumb tasted mostly like ass. Which did not suck. Hey Fred, that was a sweet load, my man. Ready, Player One?” Jeff looked pointedly at Finn.

“Brimming,” the big blond first baseman replied as he walked back around the couch and stepped up to the plate, all eyes (except George’s) on him and Jeff. “Hit a home run, bro,” Jeff urged him. “Picture me bent over the dugout rail, ‘cause that’s what I’m doing.” What Jeff was really doing, Finn knew, was letting him know that he hadn’t forgotten the (arguably rash) promise he’d made to Finn earlier that day.

Feeling the way Finn had begun to feel about Jeff, more as a future boyfriend (even if a shared one) than a mere best friend (with benefits), Finn couldn’t help but read more into Jeff’s allusion to their planned Tuesday night rendezvous than Jeff had intended. He wanted Finn to hit a home run, for sure, and he did plan to bone the fuck out of Finn in the dugout Tuesday night, but what he was thinking as Finn first lapped Fred’s remaining protein out of his crack and hole wasn’t how good Finn’s tongue felt in that worn•out hole (which it did), but how he wished his new best friend would hurry up and hit his home run so he (Jeff) could curl up somewhere private in Max’s waiting arms.

Though he might need to piss first...and that thought naturally made him think of Fred, who was sitting on the couch not more than two feet away. As Finn’s tongue continued to expertly find and extract more and more of Fred’s salty seepage, Jeff caught Fred’s eye. He smiled and said, “It seems like you left an even bigger deposit back there than I’d guessed.” “You holding up OK?” Fred asked. “Great...although I should’ve pissed when I took that dump,” Jeff replied quietly, winking at Fred. “I’m glad you saved it,” Fred acknowledged, feeling something stir (slightly) in his spent dick.

Jeff’s asshole wasn’t gaping, not exactly, but Finn found it waiting open, ajar, and leaking gobs of cum, an enticement Finn’s skilled tongue could not ignore. Only when there was no more semen to be found did Finn stand up and push his already•lubed and still•throbbing beer•can•cock into Jeff’s inner sanctum. Finn entered him much more easily and much more quickly than he had at noon that day, which was no wonder to Finn since he knew Jeff had been fucked five times in succession just before him, plus from what he’d heard about the game that night, he was sure Jeff had been fucked at least a couple of other times, albeit briefly, that night before he pulled the Train card.

And for all Finn knew, Max might have boned Jeff a couple of times that afternoon with his own beer•can•cock after their three•way in the shower, when Max had ‘caught’ them fucking and had then magnanimously pounded him (Finn) while he was pounding Jeff in the shower - the topping of Jeff that had earned Finn the promise of three return favors. Even with all that ass•fucking, though, Jeff remained a good (if not exactly tight) fit for him, and despite how exhausted Jeff had to be, he was still a rowdy power•bottom, pushing back hard to meet Finn’s every powerful thrust.

“Can’t you fuck me any harder that that?” Jeff asked. “You fucked me a lot harder earlier today.”💦

💦💦💦.

#transfer jock #text #ttj77

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #37

🏈🏈🏈.

Mitchell and Jeff had been working on making arrangements for me to bone Landen in my office in the field•house during the following morning’s practice. I excused myself to take a leak once the plans were laid, and when I returned to the hot tub a few minutes later with a glass full of whiskey and ice, I asked, “So what’s it going to be first, steaks on the grill or fucking?”

“Fucking!” Mitchell and Jeff cried in unison.

🏈🏈🏈.

“Thank God,” I replied, relieved. “Too much talking about fucking and not enough fucking. By the way, the bar’s open, so help yourselves.”

As if to call me out on the notion that I hadn’t been at the center of quite a bit of recent fucking, Mitchell piped up, “Hey Coach, can I ask you a question? What’s it feel like to get fucked three...or maybe even four times in a row?”

“Four,” Jeff clarified, grinning proudly. He, Mitchell and Dewey had fucked me bent•over the back of my sofa, and when I’d taken Jeff into my bedroom to ‘punish’ him for slipping Dewey’s cock up my ass with me thinking he was Jeff, Jeff had fucked me again against my shower wall.

“It felt like always wanting more,” I replied, taking Mitchell’s question seriously. “Like with each great fuck, and they were all great, I still wanted more.” “Even after No. 4?” Mitchell asked.

“Honestly, especially after No. 4, as intensely satisfying as that fuck was,” I replied. “Leaving the shower I nearly asked Jeff to fuck me again.” “Fuck, Coach,” Jeff complained, “you should’ve spoken up, I’d have been happy to oblige.”

“Jeff, right after Coach fucks me like I need to be fucked,” Mitchell asked, “will you slide in behind him and do me again? I mean, if Coach doesn’t have dibs on you next.”

Mitchell was beautiful coming up out of the hot tub, sheets of water pouring off his slim, chiseled body, his huge cock no longer hard, but not soft yet either. When Jeff tossed him a towel, I asked him not to dry off his ass. I planned to begin with a leisurely picnic centered on his hot ginger•fringed crack, and there’s not much that flips my switch like wet scruff escaping from a crack cleaving two firm ass•cheeks. Mitchell provided that in spades, all before I could get down to his scrumptious tight pink hole, an opening that fascinated me to no end.

The fact that a thick piece of meat like Jeff’s (or less so, mine) could find such welcome refuge beyond his tightly•shut sphincter was a mystery to me, but I’d seen with my mind’s eye Jeff’s big dick disappear into that tiny pin•prick, and while I hadn’t actually seen Jeff fuck Mitchell yet, I knew he had, and I knew my own cock had been balls•deep past that puckered barrier earlier that day, though obviously I hadn’t seen more than the head of my cock enter him.

I arranged Mitchell on some pillows, ass to the ceiling, in the middle of my bed, raspberry•flavored lube close at hand, and told him to relax, I was going to take my time, before I asked him to roll over and pull his legs back. When I entered Mitchell the next time I wanted to be looking into his dark green eyes. Jeff asked if he could get close, and I encouraged him to pile up in bed with us and get as close as he wanted, suddenly realizing that part of the surprising (to me) attraction that an older (though not yet old) man held for these hard young guys who pounded the fuck out of whatever hole they could find was almost certainly the opportunity to learn a bit more about how to be not just a better fucker, but also a better lover. ‘Fuck, even when I’m off work I’m still a goddamn teacher...’

I parted Mitchell’s crack and buried my face in his still•wet ginger fringe, then licked his crack from the top to his taint, working my tongue back to that fascinating tight pink hole. When my tongue lapped his puckered eye, he moaned. Spreading his cheeks until that pucker opened slightly, my tongue darted inside him - and then I moaned. I could feel Jeff’s hot breath on my neck - he was hovering that close - and his hand slip into my crack, his fingers skirting my bulls•eye.

I turned partly around and showed Jeff how I had rolled my tongue and then burrowed into Mitchell’s tiny opening. Jeff shifted and a moment later his hands were spreading my cheeks and his tongue was tickling my asshole. Mitchell’s sphincter relaxed a bit and I had my rolled tongue inside him, rotating, licking the inside of his anal canal, pushing deeper toward his rectum as he moaned and starting asking for dick, then demanding dick. Jeff’s tongue entered me slightly, tentatively, its first ever foray into an asshole...and then he was licking me an inch or two deep...

...This, eating ass, is not what you think you’ll be doing that first time you and your friend touch each other’s hard adolescent dicks, the first dick not your own that you ever touched, and you realize that as good as his hand feels wrapped around your cock, you’re not sure but that his cock in your hand doesn’t feel even better, even electric, and how that very first time, for me at least, you’re surprised at how quickly both of you are ejaculating into each other’s fumbling hands and all over everything else, shooting cum several feet across the room...there were no thoughts then that one day you’d wish you had licked his cum off your hand, and yours off his, and another day, later still, years later most likely, you’ll be sorrier still that you never tasted that first special friend’s asshole or, in my case, never even saw or touched it...that was all long before we learned that the male asshole and the next several inches beyond it are, in fact, another and too often under•appreciated sex organ...

“Jesus Christ, Mitchell,” Jeff said, laughing after removing his dexterous tongue from some marvelous dark depth, and looking up from between my parted cheeks, “I’ve never heard so much fucking moaning and groaning. What’s Coach doing to you up there?” “Not fucking me,” Mitchell said, sounding almost forlorn.

“Some of that moaning was me,” I admitted, wiping my face with a damp rag I had handy. Jeff had not only gotten the hang of rimming, he’d moved my needle with his nimble tongue. If ass really is ‘an acquired taste,’ as I’ve often heard, and never believed, Jeff appeared to have acquired that taste in virtually no time. I remember thinking that it was entirely possible he’d just become the only kid at our school to have rimmed another guy. “I think maybe you ought to rollover now, Mitchell.”

“Just fuck me, please,” Mitchell said as he rolled over, letting his rock•hard cock breathe at last. “Now.” I hadn’t really been thinking about the possibility of Mitchell’s big dick bonerizing while I was munching on his ass, and all that hard cock created something of a dilemma for me. I had Mitchell primed for the fucking he needed, but his ten•inch cock looked to me like it needed sucking, too. My problem was that, except for being with Mitchell earlier that day, I’d never fucked a guy with a ten•inch dick before, and I found that cock hard to ignore. ‘Maybe just a taste,’ I thought, but before I closed on his cock I stopped. “Hey Jeff, check this out.”

“Pre•cum, bro!” Jeff shouted. “See? Because you didn’t beat your meat today.” He wiped a finger through the clear, sticky ooze seeping out of Mitchell’s huge boner and transferred it to Mitchell’s grinning mouth.

“You’re mistaken, I did beat my meat today,” Mitchell corrected Jeff, “but only once.” “What the fuck?” Jeff asked, laughing. “When? Why?”

“Spying on you fucking Dewey in the locker•room,” Mitchell replied, also laughing. “That was too fucking hot not to watch, and not to crank one out...but I wish I’d known you guys were going to flip, I’d have saved my load for the second act.” I was laughing my ass off with Mitchell, and Jeff joined in.

“You’re a fucking trip, bro,” Jeff said, “remind me not to rely on your sneaky fucking ass to lock me in the locker•room again.” 🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

#transfer jock #text #ttj37

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #31

🏈🏈🏈.

Jeff had barged into my house to find Mitchell putting the wood to me, bent over the couch with my backside to the front door. I didn’t know that he had brought Dewey with him, and had immediately arranged for Dewey to step in behind me when Mitchell finished and vacated my ass. Having limited my corruption of student•athletes to two (thus far), I imagined that involving a third, Dewey - Student Athlete 3 - would be the tipping point for my arrest and prosecution...

Student•Athlete 1 [Jeff] was instead hiding behind the sofa laughing his ass off while ‘Student•Athlete 3’ (as Dewey would invariably be identified in my inevitable subsequent indictment) ‘anally penetrated his lascivious and depraved head football coach, who encouraged and commanded Student•Athlete 3’s moral degradation by shouting vile incitements to him such as ‘Oh fuck yes...fuck me with your [huge student penis]...’

While I’m no lawyer, even I understood that denying emphatically that at the moment in question (or ever) I had uttered the words ‘fuck me with your huge student penis,’ after reluctantly admitting that I had, in fact, said rather loudly (but not shouted) ‘Oh fuck yes...fuck me with your big dick,’ or words to that effect, would not be an especially compelling defense.

••••••

Nor did I believe that my explanation for using such language at that moment, which was that I had innocently believed I had been addressing Student•Athlete 1 (who had not fucked me in over 12 whole hours and, as a consequence of that cruel deprivation, I was missing him terribly), and not Student•Athlete 3, would tend to exonerate me in the slightest.

🏈🏈🏈.

Having slid head•first at jet•speed down that slippery slope of fucking student•athletes under my charge and expanding the circle of possible criminal complainants (or careless smack•talking braggarts, or innocent pillow•talk between one of my ‘conquests’ and some even less discreet queer he was boning when not boning me) to three, I knew it was only a matter of time before my awful secret got out.

I could well•imagine being arrested, handcuffed and frog•marched out of the field•house, and then prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for my crimes, with every ‘carnal touching’ of one of my student•athletes constituting a separate felony offense:

PROSECUTOR: “But you do admit that you also used such filthy and despicable language while being anally penetrated by Student•Athlete 2, a minor, do you not?”

“I do not,” I protested. “What I actually said to Student•Athlete 2, a well•endowed minor, was, ‘Fuck me with your GIANT ginger cock...NOW!’”

“And it is true, is it not, that when Student•Athlete 3 expressed reservations about proceeding with the act of anal intercourse, you demanded that he continue against his express wishes?”

“‘Demand’ is such a strong word,” I objected, “and I don’t recall Student•Athlete 3 ever expressing reservations about engaging in anal intercourse with me...see, I was confused about which student•athlete was actually fucking me at the time, and he offered to...um, discontinue...in favor of Student•Athlete 1, and I said, um, “Don’t you dare fucking stop!” So I can kind of see how you might misconstrue that as a ‘demand, but I was in no position to compel him to continue.’”

“But you weren’t satisfied with violating only Student•Athlete 2, a minor, and Student•Athlete 3, were you, Coach?” the prosecutor demanded, spitting the word ‘coach’ out of his mouth as if it had been a turd. “You then violated Student•Athlete 1, correct?”

“I would say I was MORE than satisfied,” I countered, “by the time, no, even before Student•Athlete 2, a minor with a huge penis, nutted explosively ten inches up my ass. He was also very well•satisfied, I might add. And I would argue that if anyone was violated it was ME, since I didn’t realize that Student•Athlete 3 was the student•athlete who happened to be fucking me, technically without my permission - but I didn’t feel violated at all.”

“Sir,” the prosecutor sneered, “immediately after engaging in anal intercourse with Student•Athlete 2, you engaged in anal intercourse with Student•Athlete 3, correct?”

“That’s true,” I admitted, “I just said that, but as for ‘engaging in anal intercourse,’ the student•athletes really handled all of the ‘engaging’ while I was taking care of the ‘receiving.’”

“And immediately after engaging in anal intercourse with Student•Athlete 3, you engaged in anal intercourse with Student•Athlete 1 in the presence of Student•Athletes 2 & 3, isn’t that true?”

“It is,” I agreed, “subject to the previous caveat.”

“And immediately after engaging in anal intercourse with Student•Athlete 1 in the presence of Student•Athletes 2 & 3, you pulled Student•Athlete 1 into your bedroom by his very large penis and shut the door, after telling Student•Athletes 2 & 3 that you intended to ‘severely punish’ Student•Athlete 1?”

“Yes, but—”

“The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”

🏈🏈🏈.

Expecting Jeff’s thick rock•hard 18•year•old cock, I had gotten Dewey’s thick rock•hard 18•year•old cock instead, not that I think I could have told much, if any, difference between them. Had I known at that moment that Dewey was the one boning the fuck out of me, though, I would’ve mistakenly believed what I was experiencing was a rock•hard 17•year•old cock, since I didn’t yet know that Jeff had gotten just about everyone’s ages wrong but his own.

Finding out later that Dewey was in fact 18 provided only minimal comfort, not nearly enough to overcome the growing sense of dread engendered by the knowledge that I was then guilty of having sex with three, and not ‘just’ two, of the student•athletes under my tutelage and supervision. More troubling to me than the fact that I had corrupted yet another student•athlete, I’ll admit, was the fact that there was yet another witness to my crimes. No matter how much each of them assured me he would never tell a soul about what he and his friends had done with Coach, the more guys involved, the likelier the story would eventually get out. Jeff himself had already told (at least) two guys, Mitchell and Dewey, incidental to his recruitment of them.

But I didn’t know that yet. I was still bent all the way over the back of the couch, so the only thing I could see without straining my neck was the fabric on the couch. The first clue that everything was not as expected was, or should have been, immediately upon “Jeff’s”/Dewey’s penetration of me when I vaguely realized that “Jeff” was wearing a rubber, but I didn’t think then how odd it was for “Jeff” to have suddenly decided that he was into condoms after bare•backing me half•a•dozen times the day and night before.

It took a couple of minutes of straight•up hard fucking for my brain to register “Jeff’s” sudden condom use as being downright weird. I recall thinking during those first two or three minutes of ass•pounding that “Jeff” usually started slower and varied his tempo more, but I just assumed in the moment that zero•to•sixty pedal•to•the•metal butt•fucking was yet another of Jeff’s variations. And it’s not like I wasn’t enjoying his urgency or wanted him to slow down - I was enjoying the fuck out that man•ramming and had no intention of asking him to slow down.

What I never noticed, and probably should have, though, was the absence of low•hangers slapping against my ass. Getting pounded by Jeff like “Jeff” was pounding me then always put his big, loose nut•sack in rapid motion. And one thing that was (or should have been) a dead•giveaway that someone other than Jeff was cleaning my clock, but never occurred to me until afterwards, was the fact that Jeff ALWAYS runs his mouth non•stop while he’s fucking (top or bottom), and not just words, he makes all kinds of other noises, too - grunts, groans, yelps, shouts, you name it.

But “Jeff” wasn’t making a fucking sound, not with his mouth, and he hadn’t said a word. On later reflection, the only sound I could recall having heard while I still believed Dewey was Jeff, apart from Mitchell’s panting, was the squelching sound of a big, lubed, latex•covered cock being driven, repeatedly, into and pulled partially out of my gaping asshole before being slammed home again.

Presumably if the fucking had gone on long enough without “Jeff” running his mouth and without his balls slapping against my ass, I might have registered those oddities - but at the pace “Jeff” was keeping up, that fucking was destined to end soon. So if Dewey hadn’t shifted the grip of his hands from my hips to my shoulders, I might never have known that I was getting plowed by Dewey and not Jeff. The position of Dewey’s hands was not in itself a tell, though. It still took me deciding to stretch my neck and just happening to glance to my right to notice that the firm hand on that shoulder was black instead of white.

“Dewey??” I asked, momentarily confused. Of course it was Dewey. Sure, there were other black kids on my team, but none of them were queer as far as I knew, and Jeff hadn’t stuck around after practice to fuck any of those other kids. Dewey immediately stopped pumping his rock•hard 18•year•old cock into my ass.

“Yes, Coach?” he asked sheepishly as his stationary cock throbbed in my rectum, and Jeff laughed loudly in the background. You might think I was pissed off, but I wasn’t, certainly not at Dewey, whom I’d been plotting to fuck in the next day or so anyway, extra witnesses be damned. I really wasn’t even pissed at Jeff, though I was maybe a tad aggravated with him.

“Dewey, for God’s sake, don’t stop now,” I told him, “but I expect you to kiss me before you fuck me next time.” Dewey got back down to business without further ado. I expect the embarrassment of the situation or a desire to terminate the somewhat awkward encounter as soon as possible had something to do with how quickly Dewey got off after our very brief mid•fuck conversation, but like I said, with the amount of friction he had been creating, that fuck had been destined for an early ending anyway.

Dewey, ever obedient, was railing me full•speed again in no time, creating even more of that cock•on•smooth•muscle friction, and he was nutting soon after. Dewey came quietly but with authority, just like he fucked. If the period of time during which Dewey’s grip on my shoulders suddenly became a vice•grip until that grip finally relaxed is any measure of the intensity of his orgasm and how long it took him to drain his balls, that must have been a huge fucking load expelled with force into his rubber.

“We might as well finish this train, Jeff,” I said after Dewey pulled his spent cock out of my fuck•tunnel, “before I punish the fuck out of you.🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

#transfer jock #text #ttj31

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #15

🏈🏈🏈.

Inflamed by my report that I’d seen über•jock and presumed•straight Dewey ogling Jeff’s junk in the I locker•room on several occasions, my star tight•end demanded my ass and fucked the living shit out of me for the third time, not at all unlike the way he’d fucked me the second time, only harder and not for nearly as long. There were no pauses to delay orgasm, and the only variation in tempo was: harder, faster, deeper.

🏈🏈🏈.

I didn’t keep a stopwatch on Jeff, but I’d be surprised if he lasted five minutes, which was cool - I understood that fuck was solely, or mostly, about Jeff getting his rocks off, kind of like an emergency fuck necessitated by Jeff’s unexpected realization that Dewey’s exotic milk•chocolate cock might actually be available to him, a cock that for whatever reason he’d never considered to have been within his reach.

Still, there’s nothing quite like an 18•year•old rock•hard jock•cock on the single•minded mission to nut, rocking his 34•year•old coach’s ass at full speed. His big dick was traveling up and down my rectum with all the authority I’d ever fantasized about, and then some, lighting up the pleasure•receptors in my smooth muscle lining with every thrust and retreat, his balls slapping furiously against my ass and my head•board banging against the wall. I was just a (poor) stand•in for Dewey during this bonus•fuck, and I knew that if Jeff were ever fortunate enough to fuck the real Dewey, that kid was going to get the ass•fucking of his young life.

I thought Dewey probably was within Jeff’s reach, but it’s easy to read too much into what appears to be a ‘cock•starved look.’ And even if the expression on Dewey’s face (multiple times) when his eyes seemed to have been locked onto Jeff’s meaty dick really had been a ‘cock•starved look,’ that sure as fuck didn’t mean Jeff could walk up to Dewey out of the clear blue the next morning and successfully hit on him. And even if cock•starved Dewey did bite, that didn’t mean the two of them would be fucking on my living room floor within the next fifteen minutes (or ever)...or that Dewey would somehow think that turning such a fortuitous fuck session with Jeff into a three•way involving his football coach would be a swell idea.

I felt a change in Jeff’s pounding rhythm that made me think he might be nearing the end of my ‘bonus•fuck.’ “Hey Jeff, would you mind coming in my mouth?” I asked. I love oral and I’d had precious little of that thus far with Jeff since his cock had mostly been doing what it was doing at that moment. I wanted his young, strong cock in my mouth, and I wanted to taste his cum. I had also had the sense that his two previous powerful orgasms had produced a prodigious amount of semen, but there wasn’t really any way to gauge how much cum he’d deposited eight+ inches up my ass, and I was simply curious about the size of his load.

“Mind?” Jeff asked, laughing, and barely slowing while he answered me. “Fuck yeah I’d love to blow in your mouth, Coach...I’m close...I’ll slap your ass just before I pull out...then you roll over damn fast...I’ll climb on your chest...” I counted eight or nine deep, rapid•fire strokes after Jeff stopped talking before he slapped my ass and quickly pulled his thick plunger out out of my ass, making a loud popping sound.

I rolled onto my back and Jeff was almost instantly clambering onto my chest and shoving his super•engorged cock, which he was gripping tightly around its thick base, into my waiting mouth. He managed about half a stroke before he shuddered convulsively and I felt and tasted the hot jets of his cum flooding my mouth and throat, me swallowing as much of his salty, almost•smoky, slightly sweet semen as fast as I could, but not keeping up with his continuing eruption, the excess spilling down my chin.

All I can say with certainty about the size of Jeff’s third load is that I’d never had an orgasm like that one myself, nor had I ever swallowed close to that much cum before. So, yeah, that was one prodigious load. God only knows how much ejaculate Jeff had ejaculated the first time he’d cum that night, with me riding his cock hard on the locker•room bench. I kept sucking Jeff’s dick until it began to soften and he pulled it out of my mouth, and then rolled over onto his back, once again drenched in his exquisite jock•sweat. He knew by then that I’d want my face buried in one of his sweaty armpits, and so raised the arm nearest me as an accommodation.

After I’d inhaled and tasted my fill of Jeff’s wet, musky armpit, I settled back into his arms with my head resting on his heaving chest. “Hey stud, tell me how you and Mitchell hooked up,” I whispered, feeling the blood flow to my cock in anticipation of hearing about how Jeff’s balls had come to slap against Mitchell’s skinny ass...and wondering to what extent his ginger scruff could be seen creeping out from between his milky•white ass•cheeks.

“One of my greatest finds,” Jeff replied with a chuckle. “Keep in mind I just parachuted in here a few weeks ago, a dude with a definite taste for other dudes, and I didn’t know anyone except Landen...but I didn’t know him well...he was just a friendly face. Mission One was to discreetly scope out all of the potential merchandise, Mission Two would be to find out which cocks of the ones I was interested in sucking were actually suckable by another dude. So I’d pretty much checked out most of the guys’ junk and other particulars in the locker•room or showers during my first week. I’m certain I missed a few, am probably still missing some of them...those are the ones that keep up at night...”

“I bet I haven’t seen more than half, no, 60% or so, of the guys’ dicks...” I interjected.

“No shit, Coach,” Jeff said, laughing, “‘cause you’ve spent about 99% of your shopping time zeroed in on one particular penis. Thankfully, I might add. Anyway, you’re bound to have overlooked some real gems, probably straight, but still gems. But don’t worry, Coach, between the two of us, we’ve identified most of the good•looking queers or likely queers...you, me, Landen, Dewey, Sam, Mitchell, possibly Alex...statistically, there shouldn’t be many, or any, more homos on the team, maybe a couple more dudes who’ll never show their hands...”

“Sam’s a homo?” I asked, adopting Jeff’s lingo. I’d thought of Sam, a big, strapping, hearty O-lineman whose cock was somehow always covered or obscured when I’d made my rounds, when I’d first tried to guess who besides Landen Jeff had been fucking in the locker•room, but I’d never mentioned Sam’s name to Jeff.

“Affirmative,” Jeff laughed. “Sam’s the dude who inadvertently pointed me toward Mitchell for further investigation.” “Before you tell me how that happened,” I said, “do you know if Sam has a cock? I’ve never been able to get a look at it, and not for lack of trying.”

“He does,” Jeff assured me, laughing. “Anyway, the way those two dudes, Sam and Mitchell, always looked at each other when Mitchell was, is, passing out towels to wet, naked jocks...Mitchell only ever had eyes for Sam, and Sam only ever looked at Mitchell like he wished he was naked, so it was pretty clear to me that, No. 1, they were more or less a couple, and, No. 2, Mitchell had something in his pants that Sam really liked...”🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

#transfer jock #text #ttj15

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #5

https://lusstspiel.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-transfer-jock-5-by-jack-richards.html?m=1

#transfer jock #text #ttj5

[jacks-new-dick-2]

.

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The original posts of the following episodes were subsequently blocked by Tumblr, but have now been restored: ##70, 69, 67, 66, 60, 57, 52, 46, 44, 43, 41.5, 40, 22, 12 & 2.

Each restored episode is tagged “ttj__” (Fill in the blank with the episode number, i.e., “ttj70”). This note is tagged below with all of the “missing episode” tags.

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[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #34

🏈🏈🏈.

“Now we need to get back to the others,” I told Jeff, wrapping my towel around my waist in a way to best accentuate my erection, “before they think we’re fucking again. Let’s talk with Mitchell about how we break the logjam after Dewey leaves...Mitchell, I should’ve thought about that sooner. That horse•dicked kid can organize a fucking wet dream...your strong suit is recruiting...and fucking...you keep recruiting - and fucking, especially fucking me - and we get Mitchell to organize this wet dream...”

“Fucking brilliant, Coach,” Jeff acknowledged as he cinched up his bulging towel. I wondered how quickly he could be hard and inside me again, pretty fucking soon, I’d have bet, but I let the thought go for the time being.

🏈🏈🏈.

Mitchell and Dewey were laughing and drinking beer in the hot tub when Jeff and I returned. I was glad they felt at home enough to help themselves to my beer, recognizing that providing beer to what I thought were a couple of 17•year•old ass•fuckers was the least of my worries. “Hey Dewey, can I have a quick word with you?” I asked. Dewey popped straight out of the hot tub, showing off a big, fat, aroused•but•not•quite•hard cock. I dropped my towel to put him (more) at ease. We huddled together out of ear•shot from Jeff and Mitchell.

“That was kind of an awkward introduction we had earlier,” I began, “but you were fucking awesome and, um...Jeff tells me you’ve got plans tonight, so, look, I just wanted to say to you, if you’re interested in...the two of us, ah, spending some more time together...either with these guys or not...I mean, I know you’re probably here...like for Jeff or Mitchell...” Dewey took our two cocks and squeezed them together tightly in both of his hands.

“...then I’d really like that...” I continued, after gulping. There’s nothing quite as promising as having your hard cock squeezed into the stiffening cock of a hot jock you’re into and feeling him get fully hard against you.

“Count me in, Coach, for anything you have in mind,” Dewey said quietly. “I do have to go now, but I was waiting to kiss you goodnight and ask you if we can get together again real soon.” Dewey was hard again, his thick cock throbbing against my hard•on. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and met me in an electric kiss. “Those two studs over there in the hot tub, I’ve got some more business with them, too, but as far as I’m concerned they can take a backseat to you, Coach...you’re why I’m here...and I’m sorry I let our first time go down the way it did...that was completely disrespectful.”

“Forget it, Dewey,” I said breathlessly, “if I’d known you were here the exact same thing would’ve happened, except we probably would’ve kissed first,” We kissed again, a long, hot kiss, until Dewey finally broke off again. He looked down at our straining cocks, let go of them with one hand while still holding us firmly together, and with his free index finger smeared some of the precum leaking out of my dick all over the heads of both our cocks. Then he stuck his finger into his mouth.

“Mmm...I’m sorry but I really gotta go, Coach...if I weren’t so fucking late already, I’d bend over and beg you to fuck me right now...” Dewey said, preempting the very suggestion I’d just been about to make. I doubted I would’ve delayed him by more than three minutes, but I didn’t press the issue. He yelled a farewell to the guys in the hot tub, dressed hurriedly inside, and gave me another quick kiss goodbye.

“Tomorrow,” I said. Mitchell would have to tell me when tomorrow, but it was going to be tomorrow. “Fuck yeah,” Dewey said, and then was gone.

“No, no, no, just wait,” Mitchell was saying to Jeff when I returned to the hot tub, “I get the logistics problem, but I don’t understand what the ultimate goal is...I really need to work backwards from that.”

“Cool, hold that thought,” Jeff replied, then said to me as I was about to climb in with them, “whatever was going on over there between you and Dewey was just about the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen that didn’t involve me.”

“Yeah it was, but hold that thought,” I said to Jeff, but Mitchell interrupted me before I could say to him what I’d planned to say.

“Whoa, Coach, hold up,” Mitchell said. “Is that pre•cum oozing out of your beautiful boner? Because, if it is I sure would like to lick it off before you waste it in here. I fucking love pre•cum, but I never, or almost never produce any myself.”

“Probably because you masturbate too much,” Jeff chimed in. “If you’re cranking it a lot, it’s a known fact that your dick isn’t as eager to fuck, so it just skips that step.” That reeked to me of total bullshit, covered with an ever•so•slight patina of plausibility.

“Really? Hmm,” Mitchell replied. “Well, that could be it then because I do jack off all the fucking time.” That kid was full of surprises.

“Have at it, sport,” I said, sticking my oozing boner in Mitchell’s face. He gobbled it up, licked me clean, squeezed out a few last drops and licked them up. When he’d released my unit with a “Thanks, Coach,” I climbed into the hot tub and sat between my boys. Then I turned to Mitchell and said, “I haven’t spent nearly the amount of time with you today as I’d hoped to.” I kissed Mitchell as deep and long as Dewey and I had just kissed, my hand finding and closing around his very hard and very large cock underwater.

“That’s OK, Coach,” Mitchell said, “I know you’re spread kind of thin. That’s why I’m staying over tonight...but, um, easy on my dick, OK? I don’t think any of us have a spare load to blow underwater...well, Jeff might...”

“Jeff might,” Jeff agreed, “but let’s not test it until we know how much fucking we’ve got ahead of us, which is one reason I called on you for your logistical expertise. So, before I tell you ‘the ultimate goal’ that you’re going to be counting backwards from, you need to know the fictional assumption looming just behind that ‘ultimate goal,’ which is that, come Monday morning, Coach is suddenly going to retire, if not from coaching, then from fucking me, you and his other favorite student•athletes, like forever. Now, now, I know that’s as fucking preposterous as it sounds, that you’re no more likely to accept that than I am, which is not at all, but that’s the fictional assumption that, um, compresses our calendar...

“But accepting that assumption,” Jeff continued, “just for the sake of argument, or really for the sake of avoiding an argument with Coach, our ‘ultimate goal’ is to give Coach, on Sunday afternoon or evening, his deepest, darkest, secret•est desire, which is to have half a dozen prime high school jocks pull a train on him—”

“Half a dozen?” Mitchell asked, wide•eyed. “You, me, Dewey...Landen? Landen...who else have you got? Do they all have to be football players...or managers...because I could probably get a fucking stud baseball player...that’s still just five, though...Sam, maybe, but I’d rather not...”

“Alex,” Jeff said. “You’re shitting me, Alex is a homo?” Mitchell asked in disbelief. “That fucking stud•muffin? I’m pretty sure Alex is straight, bro.” “You didn’t believe Dewey was a homo, either,” Jeff pointed out smugly.

“Yeah, but now I’ve seen that shit with my own eyes,” Mitchell said. “Alex though? I dunno...” “I’ve got it on good authority from a dude who’s been exchanging bodily fluids with Alex all summer,” Jeff said, still smiling smugly.

“Dewey,” Mitchell guessed, “that fucking homo. So those two have been sneaking around all summer, being queer together without letting any other homos know they’re potentially available. Goddammit, I could’ve fucked that guy back in the spring, but the vibe wasn’t...didn’t feel...quite right, maybe because he’s so fucking shy...anyway, I dropped it.”

“Dude, no telling how many other homos you’d have uncovered and attracted to your bright flame if you’d only been showering with the team since, like when two•a•days started. Fuck, since last season. Alex would probably be your bitch by now.”

“But you don’t know if Alex will be queer with us, let alone boink Coach with a bunch of other guys watching?” Mitchell asked, still skeptical. “Have I asked him, no,” Jeff said, “but he will. Dewey owes me at least one shot with Alex. Alex will come through for ME, anyway, and Dewey and I can convince him to do the group thing...besides, all those other hot homos, except for maybe you, aren’t going to just be standing around beating their meats waiting for their turn...

“Let’s say there are six of us and you’re pounding Coach first,” Jeff continued, “which is NOT going to happen, by the way, you going first - that’s just an example - that means there’s me and four other big swinging dicks, or three other big swinging dicks plus Alex, for me to suck while we wait, and those dudes are going to be sucking cock and ass, too. No self•respecting homo is going to turn down that cock•cornucopia, I don’t care how fucking shy he is. So don’t worry about Alex. Assuming he doesn’t flub his audition by taking a dump on my chest, he’ll be there. But we still don’t know shit about your supposed baseball player...” 🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 106, are also available in (mostly) reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

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All missing episodes have now been reposted on both blogs. Each episode has been individually tagged on http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com, and links/tags to every episode will remain at the top of that blog.

#transfer jock #text #ttj34

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #2

🏈🏈🏈.

“Coach, I’m 18,” he said, as if that mattered, “and you’ve never seen me hard.” No, of course I’d never seen him hard, but God knows I’d imagined him hard, I’d imagined his hard cock in my mouth, up my ass, my cock cracking his freshly•rimmed dripping wet hairy ass every single night while I masturbated. No doubt the forbidden nature of Jeff’s fruit contributed to my my feelings, but I’d never wanted anyone more in my life.

🏈🏈🏈.

“No fucking way,” I finally responded, but without conviction. Jeff grabbed my hand suddenly and planted it firmly on his prominently bulging bulge. And I groaned. “What are you going to do, Coach, punish me?” he asked in a naughty tone. “‘Cause I think I’d enjoy that. It’s not like I’m a virgin, Coach, you won’t be corrupting me. I know what I’m doing,” Jeff whispered urgently, just before his other hand, suddenly on the back of my head, pulled my face toward his.

Jeff’s hungry lips found mine and parted, his tongue probing for entry. As my mouth opened for him, Jeff’s hand left mine on his throbbing boner (and I never considered moving it) and found my own throbbing boner. That time it was Jeff who groaned.

“Fuck, dude, you’re packing,” Jeff panted through our kisses, his hand running up, down and back up the length of my cock, “and you’re fucking ready. I want you balls•deep inside me, Coach...right fucking now...I beat off every night thinking about you inside me, Coach...shower with me...please...”

I had already let this encounter go entirely too far, of course, but I knew the shower was a point of no return. Maybe if I’d “innocently” accepted Jeff’s “innocent” invitation to shower with him at the beginning nothing more would’ve happened...maybe. But if I went into the shower with him now, it would be to fuck him...and to beg greedily for his rock•hard 18•year•old cock up my ass. I squeezed that cock then and we both groaned.

“Let’s go to my house,” I suggested lamely, playing for time, hoping that if he agreed I’d somehow find the fortitude to turn him away by the time he got there.

“Fuck that,” Jeff said, laughing as he took a half•step back and peeled his wet T•shirt off. My eyes rested on his perfect pecs and then followed his treasure trail down to his waist•line...as he dropped his gym shorts and jockstrap to reveal what had to be an eight, maybe even nine•inch boner striving for the ceiling. Closer to nine than eight, I decided. “Now you, Coach,” he instructed, pulling his cock down by its engorged mushroom head and letting it go to thwack back against his taught, flat belly. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

“Tell you what, Coach,” Jeff persisted when I still didn’t make a move to undress, “you fuck me in the shower now, as fast and hard as you can, and then I’ll come over to your house for you to show me how lovers should really fuck each other...all night long.”

I just stood there, letting hot, sweaty Jeff make my decision for me, not resisting him as he made it, lifting my shirt over my head, dropping to his knees to pull my shorts and jock down, taking my throbbing cock into his mouth like someone with plenty of experience sucking dick. “Shower,” I insisted, pulling Jeff up to his feet.

“You look so fucking hot,” that kid told me, playing to my vanity, which was working. “Ripped...and that fucking cock, dude, all of you is so much better than I’ve been fantasizing about. Coach, do you mind me asking how old you are? And don’t be shy...I’m into older dudes, the older the better.”

“Thirty•four,” I said, laughing. “Should I add a couple years, or subtract a couple?” Jeff was pressing his big cock against mine insistently, kissing me deeply again. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. My bad fortune, the disaster that awaited me for taking advantage of my good fortune, I understood all too well.

“Don’t change a fucking thing,” Jeff whispered, then led me by my throbbing cock into the shower room. We turned on several of the shower•heads, hot and steamy, but before the heavenly aphrodisiac of his musky jock•sweat was washed away in the shower I buried my face in one of his sweaty armpits, inhaling his scent.

Only then did I push him back against the wall. Kneeling, I sucked his left nut into my mouth, worked it over, expelled it and repeated with his right. Back and forth between his heavy, sagging nuts, back and forth. I eventually began working my way up his hard shaft, then circled the rim of its flaring head several times with my tongue. Finally, I inhaled as much of Jeff’s thick, eager cock as I could.

Long before I’d had my fill of sucking his cock, I stood up and spun Jeff around. While we were likely safe from discovery, I knew that several other people had keys to the locker room, and getting caught with my cock up my student•athlete’s ass wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. We needed to hurry. Jeff braced against the wall, spreading his legs and sticking that sweet fuzzy peach of an ass out to meet what he expected to be my cock...and what I’d expected, initially, would be my cock...but the sight of that wet, curly hair spilling out of his crack inflamed my...imagination.

Instead, it was my tongue that first burrowed into Jeff’s delicious crack. “Holy fuck,” he exclaimed, pounding his hand against the wall, when my tongue penetrated his rectum. “So THAT’S what all the rimming porn is about...I had no fucking idea...” I redoubled my efforts, giving him at least idea how good an experienced tongue could feel when applied to (and inserted into) the right hole.

As I stood to shove my cock all the way up my new star tight•end’s rear end, I had a nearly•deflating thought. “Fuck,” I barked sharply, “fucking condoms...I didn’t think...” No, I hadn’t thought at all. Not about anything. It was one (terrible) thing for a coach to butt•fuck one of his players in the locker•room showers, but it was an entirely different (worse) thing for a coach to bare•back one of his players in the locker•room showers. If butt•fucking one of my charges was a felony - and it was - then blowing an unprotected load in him would likely be a capital offense.

“Relax, Coach,” Jeff replied smoothly, “I’ve got you covered...in my locker...don’t move.” He was gone and back, rolling a condom down my boner, in a flash. “Lube, too,” he said, handing me a small squeeze bottle.

I couldn’t help myself and started laughing as I lubed my freshly•shrouded cock and its waiting 18•year•old receptacle. “What’s so funny?” Jeff demanded. “That I’m obviously not your first in my locker room,” I responded, not asking.

“You’ll be the first dude to top me in here,” my star tight•end responded cheerfully, putting a positive spin on my place in his pecking order. “All the others I topped.” Jeff helpfully spread one of his firm ass cheeks for me, keeping one hand on the wall, and I spread the other, revealing his brown, puckered ass•hole.

“ALL the others?” I asked, laughing even harder as I decided to skip the finger test and instead pressed the head of my cock into my tight•end’s not•so•tight bulls•eye.

“BOTH the others,” Jeff corrected himself. “THAT...oh yeah...do that...” he urged as I worked the head of my dick in and out of the first inch or so of his anal canal. “Fuck yeah, Coach...” I reached around him and gripped his thick cock firmly as I pushed further in...not exactly easily, but more easily than I’d expected.🏈

#transfer jock #text #ttj2

[jacks-new-dick-2]

Links to Transfer Jock Missing Episodes💦

The original posts of the following episodes were subsequently blocked by Tumblr, but have now been restored: ##70, 69, 67, 66, 60, 57, 52, 46, 44, 43, 41.5, 40, 22, 12 & 2.

Each restored episode is tagged “ttj__” (Fill in the blank with the episode number, i.e., “ttj70”). This note is tagged below with all of the “missing episode” tags.

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[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #60

💦💦💦.

“Mitchell, man, whatever I’m doing,” Jeff had assured him, “me getting reamed by the hottest QB on the team, ‘watching game film’ with Coach, taking a shit, you name it - you are always fucking invited.” [#49]

💦💦💦.

“I’ll be in in a few minutes,” Mitchell said when Coach and Finn headed inside. “I want to rinse off first.” Then he hopped into the hot tub with Jeff and Max. He and Jeff made eye contact, and whether it was the shit•eating grin on Mitchell’s face or the one of immense satisfaction on Jeff’s, or the sense of giddiness that accompanies love or infatuation and the happiness the friends felt for each other, or simply that they were enjoying their friendship - or some or all of any of those things - both of them cracked up, and one’s laughter fed the other’s and then drew Max in as well, such that the three of them were soon laughing (almost) uncontrollably.

After they finally managed to stop, Mitchell said, “C’mere, fucker, I love you, give me a fucking hug,” and threw his arms open to Jeff. Jeff and Mitchell hugged each other tight, pressing their hard, wet bodies together, their fat penises mashed or rubbing together, the two bros laughing again, though not as hard. That wasn’t exactly, or entirely, a sexual moment, but it wasn’t strictly a platonic one either, and both of them must have felt the other’s accidentally swelling penis.

In fact, Mitchell fleetingly entertained the idea of kissing Jeff in that moment and, recalling the extraordinary act of kindness Max had shown him in the shower•room, then kissing Max, too, neither contemplated kiss a ‘friendly’ one but a lover’s kiss. Jeff no doubt would have kissed Mitchell had Max not been present, and had Mitchell kissed him then, Jeff would have returned the kiss, Max or no Max. Max, too, recognized the undercurrent of sexuality running between Mitchell and Jeff, and recalling how fucking good Mitchell had felt inside him for those two minutes in the shower•room, briefly considered that the three of them finding a bed in which to spend the remainder of the night together wouldn’t be such a bad thing at all, even though he wasn’t quite ready to share Jeff. But that moment had passed, and Mitchell had gone inside to watch Coach fuck Finn in his sweet ass for the second time.

••••••••

“Better stick it in, Coach,” Finn had said, “before I change my mind and ask that ginger horse•hung guy with the lizard•tongue to fuck me instead.” [#58]

💦💦💦.

The second time Finn got fucked in the ass was very much like the first, with a few small but important differences, but Mitchell didn’t know anything about the differences since he hadn’t been present the first time. The most immediately recognizable difference to anyone who had witnessed (or lived through) both, would have been that Finn was on his hands and knees, ass up and head and chest tucked, rather than on his back with his knees pulled to his chest.

Another obvious difference (if you checked underneath him, as Mitchell did) was that Finn was hard throughout much of the second fucking. During that first fucking, Finn had mostly been flaccid, with his fat, beer•can•cock flopping and bouncing all over (and beyond) his neatly trimmed patch of cotton•blond pubic hair, a visual that Jeff had found especially hot. A third difference was that while there were still a number of brief pauses in the action, there weren’t as many and they were all much shorter than during Finn’s first time to bottom. The most important difference, although not with respect to the actual fucking of Finn, but as concerned Mitchell and what happened later, was probably the fact that there wasn’t another couple fucking in the love•lounge in the corner of the room. Of course, Mitchell hadn’t known anything about that second couple fucking in the same love•lounge into which he eventually settled to watch Coach put the wood to Finn.

In point of fact, however, there was no longer a love•lounge in the corner of the room, because early in the fucking, just after Mitchell had slid his head underneath Finn to check on the quality of his erection (firm), and had ended up sucking Finn’s thick, uncut cock for a couple of minutes while Coach worked his way into Finn’s dark interior, and had then extricated himself to watch the ‘real’ fucking, Mitchell had dragged the love•lounge from the corner of the room right over to the edge of the bed for a better view of the action. Then after settling in and spitting into his hand as he got ready to stroke one out, Mitchell had seen Coach’s Astro•glide lying on the bed, so he had gotten up to help himself to some lube, and finally settled back into the love•lounge to begin lubing his huge cock.

By the time that Mitchell had observed the initial penetration, slid underneath the fucking couple and sucked Finn’s gorgeous beer•can•cock for a couple of minutes, rearranged the furniture, lay back and then gotten up to grab the lube and gotten settled again, Coach already had more than half his dick up Finn’s chute. He was beginning to work backwards by the time Mitchell was stroking in earnest, and had surrendered all but about the first three inches, but Coach was working those inches pretty well, and with increasing speed.

Given all the noise he was making, Finn seemed to be enjoying that tenderizing process. It looked like an interesting technique to Mitchell, but also one that, with so much attention focused on the head of the cock, Mitchell figured would have already cost him his load if he’d been doing the same shit to Finn. Then Coach pushed his thick cock back in at least as far as he’d been before he’d retreated, and Mitchell could tell it was a tight fucking fit, because it hadn’t been easy, not one quick thrust by any means. Coach claimed maybe another difficult inch then (and Mitchell wouldn’t have known this, but that difficult inch had yielded slightly easier than it had the very first time Coach’s cock had claimed it).

Mitchell calculated that Coach finally had between five and six inches (reasonably) comfortably up Finn’s butt and decided he ought to slow his stroke down until they were actually fucking (which Mitchell defined as establishing an out•in•out rhythm after hitting balls•deep depth; no one knows how or where Mitchell picked up such a miserly definition of fucking, since all he would say is, ‘That’s just what I believe’). Mitchell noted that Coach was indeed a patient lover, but he wasn’t struck by that fact; what struck him was that Jeff, who had topped him the first and second times he’d been topped, had probably been even more patient the second time he’d fucked him. Granted, it probably was harder work to thread Jeff’s watermelon🍉dick into a tight pink hole than it was Coach’s lesser but not inconsiderable cock.

Mitchell also noted that as patient as Jeff had been, he probably hadn’t been as tender and loving as Coach, who he thought was almost pampering Finn, when he really ought to have already been fucking him (as Mitchell defined ‘fucking’). He couldn’t help but think that as insistent as Finn had been to fuck him back in the spring, he seriously doubted Finn would have been half as patient in shoving his fat cock up his (Mitchell’s) tight pink hole if he (Mitchell) had yielded to him (Finn) in April as Finn had wanted. No, as good a dude as Finn was, he wouldn’t have fucked him in April as well as Jeff had in August.

Mitchell was glad he had waited until August for Jeff (not that he had planned in April to give it up in August, nor to give it up to the transfer•jock, who in April had not yet transferred and was still unknown to Mitchell), though he was beginning to tire of waiting for Coach to finish (they still weren’t even actually fucking yet), because he didn’t want to wait for Finn’s cock up his ass any longer. Unless he’d stayed with Jeff and Max, he suddenly thought (to his own surprise), THEN he wouldn’t have minded waiting for Finn’s cock for several more hours, or days, even. Plus, Mitchell figured, Finn had been waiting since April to fuck him, so what was the big deal about another half•night or so of delay?

Mitchell barely noticed that Coach and Finn were actually fucking (even by his definition, if fitfully) as he replayed the hot tub scene, wishing he’d kissed both Jeff and Max when he’d thought of doing it...he’d be with them on the fuck•platform or wherever they were fucking then, instead of masturbating while Coach pampered Finn, which he frankly was not finding to be much of a stimulus for his masturbation...and, fuck, when Max had kissed him, and then the WAY Max had kissed him! Because he’d known that Jeff would’ve happily welcomed him into their huddle...but he hadn’t been so sure about Max, even though they’d probably already fucked each other like a million times by then, and how long was he supposed to ‘give them their space,’ anyway? But the way Max had kissed him! That had been something. He shouldn’t have left them after that kiss. They’d have been taking turns on him by then. And he’d be fucking them, too, which he wasn’t going to get to with Finn, not that night, no matter how long he waited for Finn to fuck him.

That was when Mitchell got out of the love•lounge and left the bedroom, and walked to the back of the house to scan the CF fuck•platform for writhing bodies through the window. No bodies, writhing or otherwise. He checked the pool and hot tub. Nothing. Probably just as well, what would he have really done if he had seen them? ‘I would’ve thrown myself right into the fucking middle of them and made something really good happen, like at least another group•hug,’ he assured himself just before he turned to return to his lonely love•lounge. ‘Besides, they’re both probably tired of fucking a perfect guy by now...’

As he turned reluctantly to go back to his love•lounge, however, Mitchell saw a dim light flick on in that room with the high roof behind the hot tub...and watched a tall, lanky figure cross the room, or cross from one side of the double set of french doors to the other, out of sight again. He thought that had probably been Jeff, but as similar as his and Max’s builds were, it was impossible to tell which it was from that distance and in that lighting. Mitchell froze...would he really barge in there and pile up in the middle of those two hot•as•fuck lovers? And when the tall, lanky figure crossed back across the french doors and then a moment later the dim light flicked off, Mitchell knew it was then or never, before they started fucking again or, worse, fell asleep. He felt his cock throb optimistically as his hand turned the knob to the outside door and then, to his surprise, he was striding across the patio toward those darkened french doors.

Mitchell rapped lightly on the glass panes of the french doors and then turned the knob and pushed. The doors weren’t locked. “Hey guys, it’s Mitch—” “Mitchell?!?” two voices sounded in unison out of the pitch black. “Mitchell, get your ass over here and get in bed with us!” That was Max. “Trust me, brother...two steps straight ahead, then launch yourself...you’ll land in open arms.” That was Jeff. “C’mon, you ballsy fucker.” Jeff again. Mitchell trusted, and leapt into the dark...to land in Jeff’s waiting arms and then be wrestled into the space that had opened between Jeff and Max.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said, laughing, “we’re fucking•A glad you joined us, but bringing a pre•lubed cock up in here is pretty fucking presumptuous...” (So we know that Jeff already had at least one hand on Mitchell’s pre•lubed boner). Mitchell couldn’t respond immediately because his and Max’s tongues were already probing each other’s mouths, but Mitchell couldn’t keep his lizard•tongue out of Jeff’s mouth, either, so he alternated briefly between the two of them, telling Jeff in between kisses how much he had missed him, and apologizing to Max in between kisses for crashing his private time with Jeff, even as he wrapped his long, slender fingers around Max’s thick, rock•hard 16•year•old cock for the very first (and not the last) time, and Max responded passionately.

“Whoa, whoa,” Jeff said, as he moved to turn on a lamp, not referring to Mitchell grabbing Max’s cock, to which he certainly would not have objected even if he had seen it before he’d turned on the dim lamp. “You’re welcome here, Mitchell, more than that, we’re fucking glad you’re here, but tell us what’s going on. Did something happen? Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, bro,” Mitchell said, settling back into Max’s arms, which was a fuck•load more comfortable than the love•lounge in Coach’s bedroom. “It’s just that masturbation isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and I was kind of getting frustrated by how much Coach was pampering that baby Finn, you know? Like, just go ahead and fuck him for Chrissakes...and I started thinking I should’ve just asked you guys earlier if I could hang with you...like the only reason I kept watching all that pampering inside was I wouldn’t have minded finally getting fucked by Finn, you know, if I didn’t have to wait all fucking night, and then...remember me telling you yesterday how you were the first guy I’d ever wanted to top me, not Finn? And then I remembered you saying earlier tonight that I was always invited, whatever you were doing, taking a shit or getting pounded by the hottest QB on the team, who happens to have his arms around me right now, by the way...so here I am, and I really hope you guys don’t mind...I mean, I just want to be with you, I’ll be quiet and not even beat off while you guys fuck or whatever...”

Jeff snuggled on top of Mitchell then, laying his head on his friend’s chest. “Yeah, we get all that, Mitchell,” Max replied, “but we’re not interested in you lying around being quiet while we do anything that doesn’t include you, unless you’re all fucked out...and you don’t look all fucked out. We’re not either, not quite, but I’d say we’re...satisfied—” “Um...” Jeff started to interrupt, perhaps not yet fully satisfied.

“Shush,” Max said, cutting Jeff off. “All I’m saying is, Mitchell, you tell us what you most need right now, and we’re both yours.” Jeff relaxed. He was pretty sure he knew what Mitchell would want, given a wide•open choice like that. His only question was whether Mitchell would speak up. “Honestly, what I need is just this,” Mitchell replied, “being connected to both of you. I can’t tell you how much better I feel already. But...but if you’re going to fuck again anyway, then what I’d like most is to be connected to both of you by cocks in cock•sockets.”

Jeff laughed. He’d nailed it. “Sandwich•fuck, Mitchell in the middle it is. Where do you want us?” he asked. “Whose cock in whose socket?” “Watermelon🍉dick or beer•can•cock up my ass?” Mitchell asked, laughing. “Since I don’t know who wants or needs to nut next between the two of you, you guys pick that. I’m going to love this either way.”

Jeff looked to the Decider, who quickly decided. “Jeff you connect to Mitchell, and Mitchell, you connect to me.” Max had nutted last, not long before Mitchell had observed him through the french doors crossing the room to the bathroom. While Max could’ve fucked Mitchell then, and would have enjoyed the fuck out of doing just that, he thought he probably had only one orgasm left before he was done, so he decided to try to save that for Jeff, though it wasn’t a big deal to him. What was a much bigger deal to him was cementing his connection with Jeff, and something told him there was no better way of doing that, not at that moment anyway, than for him to feel as connected as he could to Mitchell, and like Jeff, there was no more intimate connection for Max than to be completely filled up by another hot guy. Plus, the idea of having 10+ inches of cock rammed home inside him excited Max as much as it would any guy.

“You guys entertain yourselves for a few minutes while I take care of some personal business,” Max added as he wiggled out from under Mitchell and Jeff, and headed to the bathroom.

“Well, you heard him,” Jeff said to Mitchell as he wiped the lube off of Mitchell’s still•hard cock with a damp rag he took from a bedside table, “and I can’t think of anything more entertaining than five minutes of 69 before a sandwich•fuck with my two favorite dudes.”🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 103, are also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes were subsequently blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is the last one) have all been restored on JND2 (though not in order).

#transfer jock #text #ttj60

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #70

🏈🏈🏈.

“Where are we meeting the twins?” Jeff asked as he climbed into Max’s car. “La Muralla,” Max replied, “it’s a Mexican cantina overlooking the park. We must’ve run by it a couple of times today. The twins are apparently in a margarita phase.” “Well...shit,” Jeff said. “What?” Max asked. “You don’t like margaritas?”

“No, I’m just fucking nervous,” Jeff replied. “The whole reason I asked you to drive was so I could soothe myself by sucking your dick on the way. We’ll be there by the time I even get you unzipped. I mean, fuck, they’re legends...”

“No, trust me on that,” Max said, “they’re two normal, nice guys...I mean, you know, two abnormal twins who fuck each other in the ass a lot, but they’re nice guys. They’re fun, and they’re usually funny, but almost never as funny as they think they are. They’re sort of studs, but not as much a stud as you are, and they are shameless suckers for a big dick, so you’ll basically own them...trust me, I know...just be you, and I promise you they’re just going to be themselves. If I didn’t think you guys would hit it off at least as well as you and Finn have, I’d have never suggested it. We’d be fucking Finn and Mitchell tonight.”

“I know, I know,” Jeff said, “I’ll be fine, and I’m excited, too. But this is just normal me...I get nervous but I get through it. Like last night, when we separated at the school— never mind.” Jeff suddenly decided that telling Max how he’d soothed himself the night before - by pulling over and giving Finn a blowjob on the way to Coach’s house, leaving Max to chill with Mitchell and Coach while he’d been swallowing Finn’s load - wasn’t all that great an idea, after all. “Just drive, Max, I’m cool.”

Max unsnapped and unzipped his jeans, which he was wearing commando, and flopped out his fat beer•can•cock in Jeff’s direction. “Soothe yourself,” Max said, laughing. Jeff nudged Max’s foreskin down and took his fat cock in his mouth, loving the feeling of Max swelling in his mouth. Not long after Jeff got started, Max was running his fingers through Jeff’s hair and saying, “Time to zip up. We’re there. Hey, I was thinking while you were soothing me that if you really wanted to shamelessly ingratiate yourself with the twins, all you’d need to do is ask one of them where the men’s room is and go take a leak. They’ll follow for a preview, and you’d get one, too.”

Max zipped up his fresh hard•on and got out of the car, plainly sporting wood for anyone who happened to glance at his crotch. For the second time that day, Jeff asked Max if he was really going into a public place with an obvious erection. Max just chuckled. “I know how to ingratiate my brothers, too...and, to tell the truth, I kind of like the way strangers look at my bulge...I mean, why would I give a shit what they think about a guy walking through a restaurant with a boner?”

🏈🏈🏈.

The twins were on the covered front deck overlooking the park, sipping margaritas under a ceiling fan and flirting with a waiter in Spanish when Max and Jeff joined them. "Sí, pero ¿cuál de nosotros tiene el pene - verga - más grande?" one of the twins asked the waiter, and all three laughed loudly. “Ah, Luís, mi amigo...este es nuestro hermanito, Maximilian," the other twin said as they stood up, “y este es su novio Jeff...quien tiene el verga mas grande de todos...una sandía🍉verga gorda.” The waiter involuntarily glanced at Jeff’s crotch, and then hurriedly looked away and excused himself.

Jeff understood Spanish more than well enough to blush. Max hugged the first twin, and said to Jeff, “This asshole in the blue shirt is Fred,” and Jeff shook hands with the twin who’d asked the waiter, ‘yeah, but which one of us has the biggest dick?’ “And this asshole in the red shirt is George,” Max said, hugging his other brother, and Jeff shook hands with the twin who’d said to the waiter, ‘Ah, Luís, my friend, this is our baby brother Max and his boyfriend Jeff, who has the biggest dick of all..a fat watermelon🍉dick.’

"¿Y cómo describirías la polla de Max en español?” Jeff asked the twins, laughing. Fred and George looked at each other, startled by Jeff’s fluency in Spanish. George went first. "Tal vez como la cerveza puede polla?" Fred asked, "¿O como la lata de cerveza polla?" “Polla o verga?” Jeff asked. "Si, tampoco,” Fred replied. “Y la erección - la polla dura - del hermanito está mostrando,” George added, and the three of them laughed. “¿O se me paró?” Jeff asked, and they all laughed again.

“Translate, please,” Max said. “Well, apparently Fred and George were joking with the waiter about which of them has the bigger dick,” Jeff explained, raising an eyebrow to Fred, who agreed, “and then they introduced their baby brother Max and his boyfriend Jeff, ‘who has the biggest dick of all, a fat watermelon🍉dick.’”

“Jesus Christ, you slap•dicks,” Max said, “you promised you’d be on your best behavior.” Jeff studied the twins from across the table, finding them to be even more attractive in person than he’d expected after seeing the photo from which he’d concluded they were hot•as•fuck. There was a real warmth to them and a vitality that exceeded even that which the impish photo of them fucking in the mirror had conveyed. They were blond and rugged, solid guys with solid bulges that Jeff had noted before they’d sat back down. Jeff could hardly wait to strip their clothes off and feel their hard bodies pressed against his.

“Well how were we supposed to know Jeff speaks Spanish like a native,” Fred said defensively. “If you’d told us that we’d have talked about him in some other language, though probably not with Luís. And besides, I meant it as the greatest compliment,” George explained, “I mean, my God, in my wildest dreams no one is ever going to say that Fred or me has una sandía🍉verga gorda.” “The thing is, Max,” Fred added, “I think that maybe we actually ARE on our best behavior...and you might want to hear the rest of Jeff’s translation.”

“Right. So then I asked your brothers how they’d describe your dick in Spanish,” Jeff continued, “and they gave me two versions of ‘beer•can•cock,’ or asked ‘maybe beer•can•cock?’ but they used different words ‘puede’ and ‘la lata’ for the noun ‘can.’ And then I asked if ‘polla’ or ‘verga’ was the right Spanish slang for dick, and Fred said either is fine. Finally, George commented that ‘baby bro’s hard•on is showing’ and I suggested, or tried to, that they were making me hard.’”

“Yeah, I believe you’d probably say ‘la polla’ in Spain, or ‘el pijo’ or ‘el nabo,’ but in Mexico you’d likely say ‘la verga’...then I think you can just add ‘dura’ for hard, like, ‘la polla dura, la verga dura,’ or there’s always ‘paró.’ I can ask Luís to clarify if you—“

“Thanks, that won’t be necessary,” Max interrupted, “you’ve just killed my boner. Just ask Luís for two more margaritas.” “Anyway, Jeff, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by discussing your penis with our waiter,” George said, “but trust me when I say that I knew for a fact that he’d be interested.”

"No hay problema, al menos no dijiste que tengo la polla de una pulga," Jeff replied, and the twins laughed. As did Luís, who was dropping off margaritas for Jeff and Max. “No problem” Fred translated for Max, “at least you didn’t say I have the dick of a flea.”

“Well, enough talk about Jeff’s dick, let’s talk about how he’s been using it instead. Tell us something naughty you guys did this afternoon,” Fred said, changing the subject to one even more overtly prurient. Max was just glad he was speaking English. “The shower•fuck or the picnic trail run?” Max asked Jeff.

“Both!” the twins demanded. “You tell the shower•fuck and then I’ll tell the picnic trail,” Max suggested to Jeff. “So do you guys want the lurid version of the shower sandwich•fuck,” Jeff asked, “or the extra•lurid version?” “Extra•lurid!” they both exclaimed.

“OK, extra•lurid requires a little back•story,” Jeff said, already relishing the tale he was about to tell. “A bunch of homo jocks, including Max and me, are spending this weekend with one of our friends. One of the guys I met yesterday is like the second hottest guy I’ve ever seen, only your brother is hotter. He’s a big, platinum blond first baseman with a beer•can•cock about like Max’s, a damn good top for a high school senior, who got fucked in the ass for the first two times ever last night by the guy who lives there, while Max and I were fucking each other into a severe semen shortage, then another dude dropped by and topped him this morning.

“So Finn, that’s his name, and me kind of had this instant attraction going since we first met, and Max green•lighted me to fuck him while Max was at home today. Which I did, of course, standing that guy up against an upstairs loft rail. He was still tight as fuck, naturally, but he said he was sick and fucking tired of being pampered and he wanted to be fucked like a real man, and after counseling him against that, he still insisted, so I slammed my sandía🍉verga dura all the way up his ass and fucked the absolute shit out of him and, god, did he ever take my cock like a fucking champ.

“Then Finn fucked me nearly to death, just hammering the fuck out of me for like fifteen minutes. Next thing I know that hot fucker was literally begging me to fuck him again, but as I alluded to, I nearly broke my semen manufacturing system last night, so I felt like I really needed to ration my loads today and I refused, but I was able to convince Finn to fuck me again, this time in the shower.

“So ol’ Finn pins me to the shower wall and shoves his super•thick cock up my ass and is in the process of fucking the living shit out of me for the second time in half an hour, when Max busts in and asks if there’s room in the shower for him, too—”. “He’s bad about doing that shit,” Fred interrupted, laughing.

“And Finn says, ‘There’s room inside me,’” Jeff continued, “so Max climbs in and bones the fuck out of Finn while Finn’s boning the fuck out of me, and I mean I could feel Max hammering Finn’s cock deeper and deeper into me, and Max was still pounding that fucker long after Finn had blown his load up my grateful ass, and even after Finn’s dick had gotten all soft and squishy inside me, until Max goes off like a he•devil, I mean like he was speaking in tongues and shit when he finally had a major nutting experience in worn•out Finn. Was that lurid enough for you?” Jeff asked, beaming, and then took a big slug of his margarita.

“Fuck that was hot,” George replied. “I almost felt like I was there.” “I wish you had been there, George,” Jeff said, winking at him, “because just as Max was about to thrust his beer•can•cock up Finn’s butt he told me you guys were home, like in a way that made me think the four of us might be getting together later, and I spent the rest of that fantastic fuck fantasizing about being with the two of you and Max.”

“Well, Max has always had great taste in guys,” Fred said, “if George does say so himself, but he’s outdone himself this time. Now what about that picnic trail run?” Then he signaled to Luís to bring another round.

“I’ll begin this shorter story by telling you that while Jeff and I were stuffing our junk in the shortest, most revealing running shorts we could find,” Max began, “another one of our friends, Mitchell, the cutest fucking redhead ever, was stuffing his ten•inch cock into Finn’s gorgeous ass out by the pool.” “Ten•point•five inches,” Jeff interjected, “Finn told me he personally measured Mitchell’s dick, by the book, last spring.”

“Anyway, Jeff and I went for a run after the shower•fuck,” Max continued, “down to and around City Park. Jeff tells me there’s a stretch of cross•country trail along the wooded backside of the park that’s like a notorious cruising area - what Jeff calls ‘the picnic trail’ - where anybody with a dick can get a blowjob, and I’m thinking that’s total bullshit, you know, or I’d have already known about it. But sure enough, about a quarter•mile along the picnic trail, we start seeing dudes with their dicks out, guys jacking off, one dude picnicking on another dude’s cock, and we’re getting all these wolf whistles and shit...I mean, I gotta say, we did look pretty fucking good - we were shirtless and sweaty, Jeff was beautiful, his big, fat watermelon🍉dick bouncing everywhere—”

“And Max was beautiful, his sweaty shorts clinging to his junk and that thick beer•can•cock of his bouncing everywhere,” Jeff interjected. “No doubt,” George agreed, recalling off the top of his head several instances of Max returning from a run wearing nothing but shoes and soaking wet shorts that showed off his equipment to maximum advantage. After at least two of those occasions, when Fred hadn’t been around, he had joined Max in his post•run shower and been rewarded with that beer•can•cock plowing his ass.

“Then we see this...well, really, just a striking guy...not like Jeff, but really good looking, you know,” Max continued. “He’s about my age, and he was shirtless, too, and all hot and sweaty, plus his running shorts were pulled down about halfway to his knees and he’s got a big, fat semi on the way up, he flops it around and whistles at us. We keep going, but we decide PDQ, what the fuck, let’s go back and have a picnic. So we run back and follow him down this little path to a park bench out of view from the trail, and we collaborate on giving him a fucking•A great blowjob, and that hot fucker hoses us down with a huge cum•shower. Oh yeah, he tried to get both of us to fuck him, but we were saving those loads for you guys. Turns out he’s a sophomore at Hard•Bone, too...and we’re now set up to fuck him in the park tomorrow. That’s it in a nutshell. Pretty fucking interesting afternoon, huh?”

“First rate, bro, I’d say,” Fred agreed. “But what I want to know, George, is why we never knew about that smorgasbord in City Park.” “Maybe because neither of you would ever run to so much as get out of the fucking rain,” Max suggested, laughing. “The thing about runners,” George opined, “is they’re always in such a hurry. I prefer to smell the roses.”

“So tell us something naughty, or at least interesting, you two homos did this afternoon?” Max asked the twins. “Us?” Fred replied. “Nothing, except finally cleaning out our closet, like Mom’s been nagging us to do for a year•and•a•half. Which didn’t totally suck, because we found some hot porn vids we’d forgotten about, so we watched those and edged each other for about an hour.”

“Did you get each other off?” Max asked. “Nah,” George replied, “we can do that shit any time...we saved those loads for tonight...so it sounds like all four of us are primed as fuck to go off like Roman candles, what with all of that self•deprivation. I swear I think if I sneezed right now, I’d squirt in my pants.” As if on cue, Fred poured some black pepper onto his palm and blew it into George’s face, precipitating a sneezing fit by George. “Make that three Roman candles,” Fred advised, laughing, and then he sneezed himself. “Two Roman candles,” he added sheepishly, and they all laughed.

“Hey Fred,” Jeff cut in quietly as he stood up, “can you tell me where the men’s room is?” “Hey, I’ve got to piss, too,” George said immediately, “C’mon, Jeff, I’ll show you...” “Yeah, I was just going to take a leak myself,” Fred announced, hurriedly standing up and joining the exodus to the men’s room. Max remained at the table, laughing at how transparently - and predictably - shameless he could count on his brothers to be.🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 101, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj70

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #69

👟👟👟 .

“You ever cruised the back fringe of City Park?” Jeff asked Max as they stuffed their fat cocks into their skimpy running shorts. “I’ll show you some very interesting scenery, trails where you can almost always get an emergency blow•job or hand•job if you’re looking. Short•shorts, shades and no shirts, we’ll get a bunch of wolf whistles when we run through.”

👟👟👟.

Jeff grabbed his sunglasses and they took off, running shirtless down the street, junk bouncing, Jeff leading Max through shady neighborhoods at a good pace until they reached the park about a mile away. “The outer ring is a mile, then we’ll go about a third of a mile back around and take my favorite cross•country route...we’ll end up running about four•and•a•half miles, maybe a little less...and I love the way those shorts accentuate your cock and balls when you run.”

“Likewise,” Max said, taking the lead and setting a little faster pace, “and you’ve got a killer stride, bro...great legs...ass to die for.”

“Yeah...well I love the way you sweat,” Jeff replied, catching up and running abreast of Max again, “and I’m licking all of it off you when we get back...especially the smelly sweat off your balls.” They ran fast and gracefully around the outer loop mostly in silence, checking their watches occasionally. Just before they cut off the ring down a wide wooded trail on the back side of the park, Max looked over at Jeff’s jostling junk and said, “Red’s definitely your color, bro...if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you must have a huge fucking dick.”

“That’s exactly the look I was going for,” Jeff said. “We’re about to take that that grassy trail on the left...what I call ‘the picnic trail,’ then beginning about two•tenths of a mile in, you’ll start seeing little paths to these small clearings with park benches or picnic tables set back from both sides of the trail...crawling with homos this time of day and early morning...may see some action in progress, too...some dudes are outrageously bold down here...”

“You ever hook•up down here?” Max asked as they took the split. “Oh yeah,” Jeff replied, “a few times...three, I think...I’m not usually in the frame of mind for a blowjob in the middle of a run, but sometimes you see a dude who looks too good to pass up...we should slow down now, just for fun...but remember we’re only tourists.” Jeff was gratified that his description of the picnic trail was proven accurate when a nice looking older dude with his dick out whistled at them from the third bench they passed, visible down a short path off the main trail.

“Holy fuck,” Max said, “you weren’t shitting.” They saw a guy slowly stroking his hard cock two or three benches later. “How much longer is this trail?” Max asked. “The picnic section’s at least another half mile...lots of bj stations...hey, check out those guys on the left.” Max looked off to the left and, while he couldn’t see details through the bushes, the positions of the two guys made it clear that one of them was giving the other head.

“You ever see any guys fucking back here?” Max asked. “Not me,” Jeff replied, “but it happens...I’ve seen used condoms before...and Landen told me saw a couple of hot studs fucking once.” “I’m surprised he didn’t get in line,” Max observed.

“Woof! Hot kid on the right,” Jeff said, “Wow, I’d blow that fucker...” The kid, either another runner or someone disguised as one, was probably about their age. He was standing about halfway down the path to a park bench with his running shorts pulled partially down and a nice rising semi on display. Sweaty, no shirt, broad shoulders, flat belly, trim waist, fat suckable dick. He smiled, flopped his cock a couple of times and whistled as they ran past. “This is fucking unbelievable,” Max said. “What do you say we go back and talk to that stud?”

“Not unless we’re gonna blow him,” Jeff said, “or else we’d just be fucking up his hunt.” “Then let’s go back and blow him,” Max suggested, as he stopped. “C’mon, this is too fucking hot to pass up.” So they jogged back to the kid. “Want some?” the kid asked, turning to walk down the path away from them. He had a great runner’s ass.

“What do we do?” Max whispered. “Just follow him and then start sucking his dick...probably won’t need to say a word,” Jeff replied. “Not without you,” Max insisted, “c’mon, you said you’d blow that fucker...let’s get him off together.” The kid stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. “Coming?” he asked. “No offense, but either come on or fuck off.” “We’re coming,” Max replied, feeling himself getting hard. He grabbed Jeff’s wrist and dragged him down the path and around a bend, where the kid was waiting out of sight from the running trail.

“Nice dick, dude,” Jeff said. “Want it sucked?” “Sure,” the kid replied as he dropped his dri•fit shorts to his ankles, “or I’ll suck both of you off...or both of the above.” The kid might have been sixteen but he didn’t look as old as Max - though few 16•year•olds did. He was a good looking guy, with the lean, hard build of a distance runner, and he was hot and sweaty, so Jeff figured he was a tourist like themselves, only one who’d gone native, as Jeff had done more than once before.

The first two times Jeff had hooked up in the park he’d simply responded to wolf whistles, like he and Max had just done. The third time he’d gone the exhibitionist route, staking out a bench and showing off his hard cock. The first hot guy he’d whistled at had nearly fallen all over himself to get back to Jeff, and they had exchanged very satisfying blowjobs without saying much of anything to each other.

The kid’s former semi was already straight•up hard, maybe seven inches. Max sat down on the bench and said, “Fuck my face...um...please.” “Can I see yours first?” the kid asked. Max hesitated, but Jeff hauled his partly•engorged watermelon🍉dick out and left his shorts pulled partially down. “How’s that?” “Cool...very cool...you wanna fuck me while your friend blows me? I’ve got rubbers.” The kid didn’t fuck Max’s face but he did stick his dick in Max’s mouth, and Max did the rest.

“Yeah, I actually would like to fuck you,” Jeff said as he looked longingly at the kid’s hairy, rounded ass, “but I can’t, not today.” Max was giving that dude the full treatment, including a finger way up his ass and one hand stroking his shaft while he went down on him hard. “I want a turn,” Jeff said before it was too late, having watched Max expertly blowing the guy for three or four minutes, the kid moaning throughout. Jeff sat down next to Max and opened his mouth. “Can I see your dick, too?” the kid asked Max as he transferred his cock to Jeff’s mouth. Max pulled his shorts down to his ankles. He was rock•hard. “You wanna fuck me?” the kid asked. “I swear I do,” Max said, “but I can’t today, either.”

“You guys are gonna fuck each other, huh?” the kid said. “Sorry, but yeah, we are, and two other guys are waiting on us,” Max replied, while Jeff deep•throated the kid’s mouthful and rhythmically squeezed his nuts. “You go to school around here?” Max asked, breaking every protocol. “Maybe we could hook•up again sometime...soon.” Max felt bad for the kid that he and Jeff had had to turn down his generous offers to bend over for them. He would have gladly fucked the kid but for the pending twins, and the fact that he’d over•extended himself the night before.

“Hard•Bone High, when school starts,” the kid replied, grasping Max’s boner gently, not stroking him, just holding onto his dick while Jeff repeatedly deep•throated his boner, “and if you guys fuck as well as you suck I’d meet you anytime...well, I’d meet you anytime whether you fuck great or not...I’m getting close...you do suck great...you guys want to finish me together?”

When Max nodded, the kid pulled his dick out of Jeff’s mouth and the two of them worked the opposite sides of the kid’s throbbing shaft, alternating licking and sucking the head of his dick. “Oh fuck yeah...here goes,” the kid muttered through clenched teeth as his back arched, his muscular legs stiffened and his ass tightened around Max’s finger, and then stream after stream of cum shot from his pulsing cock all over both of their faces and chests. Jeff managed to cap the blow•out well with his mouth and swallowed the last two ropes of the sweetest, crispest cum he’d tasted in...forever. He surrendered the kid’s dick to Max, who deep•throated him, sucking down his last dribbles of jizz.

“Fucking Mt. Vesuvius, dude,” Jeff said, laughing, as he wiped gobs of cum off his face and chin with two fingers, and then sucked those clean before wiping more cum off of Max and feeding it to him. “Jesus fuck,” the kid said, that was the best fucking blowjob I’ve ever gotten in this park, that’s for sure.” He extended a hand to Max and pulled him to his feet, then licked the jizz off Max’s face that Jeff had missed, ending with a brief gentle kiss on Max’s lips.

“You mind if I lick off your pre•cum?” the kid asked Max, who was oozing copiously. Max nodded, and said, “Please.” The kid dropped to his knees and swallowed the top half of Max’s dick, sucking and licking him clean in a way that let Max know the kid knew how to suck a cock, and suck it well. “Hmm...evergreen,” the kid commented on Max’s pre•cum.

“I’ve got a rag,” the kid said as he stood up. “Sorry about the mess.” He poured some water from his water bottle onto a hand towel and handed it to Max, who finished cleaning himself and Jeff up, including a fat dollop of cum on one of Jeff’s shoes. The kid took the towel back and wiped off his softening cock, squeezing the last couple of drops of cum out of his one•eye before pulling up his shorts. “Fuck, that felt good.” Jeff and Max pulled up their shorts and adjusted themselves, Max still quite hard. “You going to run with a boner, bro?” Jeff asked, laughing.

“Sure,” Max said, smiling. “It won’t last long, but somebody might appreciate it.” Then he said to the kid, “We go to Hard•Bone, too. I’m Max.” Max extended his hand and the kid shook it firmly. “Tyler,” he said, “and I’m damned glad to meet you.” Jeff introduced himself and shook hands with Tyler as well. “This isn’t how these things usually go,” Jeff observed wryly. “No, it’s not,” Tyler agreed, laughing. “Thanks for the humanity. Guys don’t usually talk here, and they sure•as•fuck don’t tell you their names...not real ones, anyway. Do you mind if I run out with you guys?”

“Course not,” Max said. As they ran along he said to Tyler, “I know this sounds trite...but do you meet guys here a lot?” “Not that much,” Tyler replied. “It’s really pretty sketchy...it’s just that sometimes I feel like being sketchy...although you guys are the least sketchy I’ve met here.” “You ever fuck in the park?” Jeff asked. He could hardly wait to fuck Max in the exact spot where they’d blown Tyler, bent over that park bench...maybe they’d go for a run the next day.

“Only once...that guy wasn’t sketchy either,” Tyler replied. “College dude showing wood when I ran by, where we just were...and I did the same thing you guys did...ran by, thought, ‘hey, that was a pretty good looking dude,’ and circled back. What he really wanted was seven inches up his ass, but he was willing to do whatever I wanted in return. So we flipped, leaning against that bench...I fucking loved that...because every now and then, while we were hammering away, I could glimpse or hear people running by...it was like fucking in public, you know, only not too public.” That sounded perfect to Jeff.

They passed a couple of other guys advertising their dicks, saw another two guys, one black and one white, doing something to each other pretty far off the main trail, and collected a couple more wolf whistles before they rejoined the loop around the park perimeter. Tyler was a graceful, fluid runner, and while Max was pushing Jeff, Tyler looked as if he could maintain that pace all afternoon. Jeff looked over at him as they ran and said, “Hey Tyler, I love the way your junk jostles when you run.” Tyler laughed. “Nothing like yours, man. What a fucking dick you’re packing...what year are you guys?” “Senior,” Jeff said, “but I just transferred to Hard•Bone.” “Sophomore,” Max replied. “No shit? You look a lot older than that,” Tyler replied. “I’m a sophomore, too...we’re all new...so I don’t guess you guys know if there are many other homos there?”

“That’s not exactly right,” Jeff said, laughing. “What?” Tyler asked. “It’s weird, but the football team is loaded with queers,” Max said, “and you’ve just met two of them.” “And there are at least two homos on the baseball team,” Jeff added. “Plus I know two other queers my brothers introduced me to,” Max said. “I’d say not bad re•con before the first day of school,” Jeff commented. “Well, fuck, I think I might like Hard•Bone, after all.” Tyler reflected. “And I can tell you there’s now at least one fag on the cross•country team...and that fucker will do anything.” They all laughed, and Jeff wondered what other vile and unspeakable shit a hot guy who’d flip•fuck a stranger in public would do. That seemed worth finding out.

“Are you guys, like, a couple?” Tyler asked. “We’re teammates,” Max answered ambiguously. “No, we’re a fucking couple,” Jeff replied, “but we fuck other guys we both like.”

“Can you remember it if I give you my cell number?” Max asked Tyler. “Max, if you give me your number I’ll forget my own fucking name before I forget how to reach you,” Tyler replied. “Good, because I’m pretty sure the three of us are going to fuck, and soon,” Max said. “He’s never wrong about shit like that,” Jeff chimed in. “Who am I to argue with such wisdom?” Tyler asked, laughing. Max gave Tyler his cell number and the three of them recited it out loud together three or four times. “Got it,” Tyler confirmed, “I’ll shoot you a text when I get back to my phone...this is my exit...thanks for a great time, guys.” “Later, stud,” Jeff said as Tyler peeled off, suddenly accelerating, running like a fucking gazelle. He’d been taking it easy on them.

“Fuck, that was fun,” Max said as he stepped it up a notch. “Fuck yeah it was,” Jeff agreed as he caught back up to him. “I want to fuck you in the park tomorrow.” “I know,” Max replied, laughing. “You will. We might flip, but you can fuck me for sure...bent over Tyler’s bench. Want to fuck Tyler in the park tomorrow, too?” “Unh huh, I do...I mean, that is his spot and all...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Max agreed. They turned out of the park, and ran the last mile back to Coach’s, hot, sweaty and exhilarated.

Jeff tackled Max on the floor of the fuck•nest as soon as they got back, and they wallowed in each other’s sweat, Jeff licking some of it off Max, but not off his balls, and burying his face in one of Max’s sweaty armpits. They were both rock•hard when they finally got up to share a cold shower before they went to meet the twins.

“That guy, Tyler, was hot•as•fuck,” Max said as he soaped Jeff’s back. “Agreed,” Jeff said, “and fast, too.” Max checked his phone when they got out of the shower and found a message from Tyler simply saying, “This is Tyler. Hope we can hang out again soon.” Max typed, “Tomorrow, same place? We’ll bring lube, you bring rubbers if you care about that. Suggest a time?” and hit send.

When Jeff and Max had first gotten back to Coach’s from their run, nobody had been home, and there was still no one around when they left to meet the twins for a couple of drinks and a night of family ass•fucking.👟

👟👟👟

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 101, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj69

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #67

🏈⚾️🏈.

Finn was fucking Jeff hard with rapid, deep thrusts when they heard Max ask, “Got room for one more in there?” Finn whispered something in Jeff’s ear and when Jeff nodded, he replied, “There’s room inside me, Max...come fill me up...” Max hadn’t waited for an answer to strip off his clothes and he already had his hand in Finn’s crack when Jeff said, “Fuck, Max, I thought you’d never get back...help me out by hammering this guy’s tiny dick in a little deeper...”

🏈⚾️🏈.

Max leaned around Finn and kissed Jeff more like a lover who’d been separated from the object of his desire for three months than for three hours. Before he returned to Finn’s business end, he paused to plant his mouth on Finn’s as well, exploring Finn’s perfect white teeth with his tongue, which seemed like the courteous thing to do before sticking his dick eight inches up his ass. “You’ll be the fifth,” Finn said to Max, “so fuck right through any tightness. I’ll be fine.” “That’s true,” Jeff confirmed. “I hammered the fuck out of him a little while ago, and he only cried a few times.”

“No. 5 is the golden fuck if I remember right,” Max said, as he slipped a finger into Finn’s tight pink hole. He remembered very well the fifth time he’d gotten fucked, and it had been golden, at least in comparison to the first four times. After the twins had ‘finally’ agreed to initiate their little brother into the mysteries of ass•fucking, Fred and George had taken turns fucking him, patiently, gently and painfully - but he’d still loved the feel of his big brothers’ identical cocks buried balls•deep in his ass. Max may have been then still a few months shy of his 15th birthday, but he was already as physically mature as the 17•year•old twins.

Fred had fucked him first, then George, and then Fred had fucked George against their bedroom wall - a lot harder than either of them had fucked Max - while Max had watched, jacking off. Max could still remember the sound of Fred’s balls slapping against George’s ass, as he’d timed his strokes to match Fred’s, pausing when Fred paused, nutting at almost the same time Fred had blasted off inside George.

The next night they’d both fucked him again, Fred first, then George (both still being so patient and gentle), and Fred had blown him while George had been fucking him. He had still felt some pain when Fred had topped him (the third time he’d been fucked), but much less than the first night, and Fred had felt so good inside him despite the pain. He didn’t recall that George had hurt him at all that second night, but that may have been because his cock had been in Fred’s mouth that entire fuck, and he’d cum spectacularly at about the same time George had blown his load. Then Max had watched again while Fred topped George. He had thought then that they’d looked beautiful together, and he still thought that.

The third night had been different, because Max had insisted that it be different. The first two nights the twins had boned him either face•to•face or doggy•style. That third night, Max had insisted that Fred fuck him from behind while he leaned out (slightly) the upstairs bedroom window. Granted, the window only overlooked the backyard and it had been very late, but fucking in the window like that had still been exhilarating for Max - and for Fred, too, and then for George, who had followed Fred in the widow. Max had also insisted that Fred fuck him hard and for as long as he could, demanding that he delay his orgasm with him just as Max had watched him do with George, prolonging George’s evident pleasure.

So Max’s fifth fuck had been golden, but his sixth, seventh and eighth fuck - all that third night - had been even better, in part because Max had been calling the shots and his big brothers had not only fucked him harder and longer, they’d both fucked him twice that night. And, of course, the next day Max had started fucking George on the side, which Max had really enjoyed, usually during George’s morning shower, until Fred had relented, agreeing that Max could top him and George, as well as provide them with an enthusiastic socket for their cocks.

“What are you guys using for lube, spit?” Max asked after looking around for the Astro•glide he and Jeff had used in the shower the night before...and remembering they’d taken it to bed with them. “Dr. Bronner’s,” Finn replied. “It doesn’t sting the inside of your dick?” Max asked, recalling having jacked off in the shower with some soaps he’d later wished he hadn’t used. “Trust me, bro,” Finn assured him, “it’s not like a bar of Dial.” Max slathered Dr. Bronner’s tingly soap all over his thick beer•can•cock and inside Finn’s tight pink hole.

“You trust me, Finn?” Max asked as he pressed the head of his dick firmly against Finn’s tight pink hole. “If you do, I’ll make your golden fuck as golden as my golden fuck was.” “Of course I do,” Finn replied, “so long as you’re not talking about pampering me...I’m tired of being pampered...” “Dude, I feel like I should warn you,” Jeff chimed in, “you’re making a deal with a fucking he•devil, just saying.”

“Finn, all you have to do,” Max said, “is fuck Jeff just like you want me to fuck you...after I’m in as deep as you are, OK? Hey Jeff, guess what? Total surprise - the twins are fucking home.” Max leaned into his cock hard, punching through Finn’s outer air•lock, then drove his cock in deep, hoping Finn really wanted to be fucked as hard as he had his fifth time.

“Oh god fuck yeah,” Finn gasped as Max filled up his rectum...and kept filling him up, pulling back just a bit and then hammering in all the fucking way. Before Finn could begin moving again in Jeff, Max had pulled out seven full inches and slammed them back in. “Am I wrong, Finn?” Max asked, feeling pretty sure he hadn’t been wrong at all, given Finn’s positive reaction. Both Finn and Jeff had groaned in seeming appreciation of Max’s deep plunge.

“Unh unh,” Finn muttered. The three of them were pinned under the pelting water, Jeff to the wall, Finn balls•deep to Jeff, and Max balls•deep to Finn. “Now all you have to do is fuck Jeff like you want me to fuck you,” Max whispered in Finn’s ear as he ground his cock farther into Finn, “and I’ll follow you.” Max hadn’t been wrong - Finn pulled out and drove hard into Jeff. Within a few deep strokes Max had matched Finn’s pattern and tempo, and they were fucking in tandem, out•in•out with force, in•out•in with equal force, Max never missing Finn’s sweet spot.

All Jeff could think about as he was repeatedly nailed to the wall were the twins - Max’s announcement that his older brothers were unexpectedly home from college - ‘the twins are fucking home’ - could’ve meant anything or might’ve meant nothing. Maybe Max had been telling him that he’d just fucked his brothers at home...or that he’d be leaving later...or soon...to fuck his brothers...or maybe the ‘legendary’ twins wanted to have a beer with Max’s new friend...or maybe the twins didn’t approve of Max’s new friend...maybe they didn’t want anyone fucking their baby bro but them...or maybe Max’s brothers wanted Max and his new friend to fuck them...or they wanted to fuck Max and his new friend...or maybe it didn’t mean anything...except that Jeff had been slammed into the shower wall with each new thought he’d had about Max and the twins...every thought punctuated by Finn’s thick thrusting cock...

...so Max must have been punctuating Finn pretty fucking good...it felt like he was...and Finn was howling like he’d never been punctuated the way he was getting punctuated by Max...and if the twins being in town, no - ‘the twins are fucking home’ - hadn’t meant anything, Max wouldn’t have brought it up, not while they were fucking, like it was news that couldn’t wait...so it definitely meant something...because Max wouldn’t have made a point of telling him that the twins were home just as he was penetrating Finn...

...and then Jeff felt Finn’s cock swelling in his rectum and Finn staggering against him as he’d unloaded in Jeff’s fuck•tunnel...but Max kept hammering Finn into him, long after (it seemed) Finn’s load was spent, even after Finn’s boner began to soften in Jeff’s rectum...and then not much longer...until Max was shouting triumphantly and grunting loudly as he shot rope after rope of cum into Finn...and finally everyone was quiet and still under the falling water...and the twins were fucking home...

Jeff wanted Finn to pull out and get off of him, not that Finn wasn’t a good fucker, which he was, and not that Jeff didn’t really like Finn, which he did, but Jeff wanted Max so suddenly and overwhelmingly that the depths of his feelings shocked himself...but Finn couldn’t pull out and get off of Jeff until Max pulled out of Finn and got off of him. “Hey Finn,” Max said as he withdrew from Finn’s less•tight pink hole, “I want to be exactly where you are...do you mind?”

Finn didn’t mind at all. He got out of Max’s way, going to the other end of the shower to soap himself down as Max slipped his still•hard•enough beer•can•cock into Jeff’s well•fucked, cum•soaked cock•socket, and pushed all the way in. Jeff marveled at how different Max felt inside him, even though he knew the biggest physical difference between Max’s cock and Finn’s was probably only that the former was framed by dark brown, almost black, pubic hair and the latter was framed by cotton•blond pubes. Both were big, thick, meaty, floppy uncut dicks with no more than a half•inch of difference in either length or girth when erect, both flanked by large hen•egg•sized balls hanging low and loose. It wasn’t really how different Max felt inside him, Jeff realized as Max’s penis slid slowly in and out of him, in and out, in and out, it was how different Max’s penis made him feel.

“Can you fuck me again?” Jeff whispered, though knowing he’d have wait for it. “Not like this,” Max said as he continued to slowly ‘fuck’ Jeff (by Mitchell’s definition). “I have to get soft and then get hard again...I could fuck you again in like ten minutes...and get off again...but...”

“But?” Jeff asked. “But we need to think about the allocation of our resources,” Max replied. “How many times did you get off while I was gone?” “Just once,” Jeff said, “you know, allocating my resources, despite incredible temptation.”

“Right,” Max agreed, as Finn got out of the shower and started to dry off. “Plus, fucking you right now...or in ten minutes might be...rude...or at least insensitive...to Finn. We should get out now...I’m losing my boner anyway.” Max got out of Jeff then, and they soaped each other’s junk and ass cracks, since they understood that they could never predict when someone might want to bury his face in one of their cracks, or who that someone might be, and then they got out of the shower.

Jeff draped his dripping wet body all over freshly dried off Finn and kissed him on his lips. “You were fucking awesome, stud.” “You too, bro,” Finn replied, grinning, “but Max...Max is something else...” “Right?” Jeff agreed. “You and me...I think we fuck awesome, but Max fucks better.”

“Stop it, goof•balls, you’re embarrassing me,” Max interjected, “and neither one of you have enough basis of comparison for what you’re saying to even mean anything.” “What’s that mean?” Finn asked. “I think he’s saying we haven’t been fucked by enough different guys,” Jeff replied.

“Well, you can fix that,” Finn said, “though I can’t imagine why you’d want to as long as Max will keep fucking you. Anyway, I’m going back to the pool. Come join me if you want, but it’s cool with me if you guys want to stay inside for awhile.” After Finn left, Jeff wrapped Max in his arms. “What about the allocation of our resources? You meant semen conservation?”

“The twins would like to get together with us later,” Max said, smiling coyly. “They want to meet you if you’re game.”🏈

🏈⚾️🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 101, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj67

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #66

⚾️⚾️⚾️.

“Fuck me harder, you fucking queer,” Jeff demanded, laughing. “Fuck, Finn...you’re good at this shit...hey, dude, will you fuck me in the dug•out sometime?”

⚾️⚾️⚾️.

If Coach had been at home that early Saturday afternoon, and if he had entered unbidden his former master bedroom, the suite behind the kitchen that Finn referred to as ‘the pool house’ and that Jeff had christened his ‘own personal fuck•nest’ - which Coach would not have done, having to his way of thinking surrendered his sovereignty to those 500 to 600 square feet exclusively to Jeff, not without knocking anyway - and if he had then advanced to and up the circular staircase to the loft - an unthinkable intrusion in light of his ‘gift’ to Jeff - he would have found loosely entwined there on the mattress the two sweat•slickened transfer•jocks whom he happened to think were probably the two most attractive guys he’d ever seen naked, and certainly the two most attractive guys with whom he’d ever had sex - with the (possible) exception of the stud in the black and white photographs hanging above the bed where the two well•fucked younger studs lay talking after their tryst.

Or, since Coach had not yet returned home and thus could not have walked in on that scene (not that he would have), had the video camera ‘secreted’ behind one of the black and white photographs on the wall been operational (it almost certainly was not, but the flip of a switch could have made it so), and had Coach been of a mind, when he returned home he could have watched, from the laptop in his current bedroom, the video feed of perhaps the hottest flip•fuck ever recorded in the loft.

The camera was not truly ‘secreted’ because the only two lovers who had ever been purposefully recorded by it, Coach and the naked stud in the wall photographs, had been well aware of its presence and had always known when it was recording and when it was not. They had, in fact, on occasion watched one or another of the videos of themselves fucking each other senseless, occasions which had invariably led to yet another frenzied coupling or two between them. The video had simply been a toy they had played with sometimes, another way in which they’d enjoyed each other’s company.

Coach hadn’t even thought about the camera in the loft when he’d turned the fuck•nest over to Jeff, mostly because he hadn’t been upstairs in months and months...because he simply couldn’t bear to see those photographs on the wall...nor could he bear to take them down. Had Coach thought about the motion•activated camera in the loft before giving Jeff free use of the former master suite, no doubt he would have removed the camera, or at least ensured that it was not operational.

While Coach would have never intentionally recorded Jeff and Finn swapping loads in the loft, nor secretly recorded Jeff and Max (or anyone else) fucking in the loft, the irony is that Jeff and Finn, had they known of the camera’s existence, would have been pleased to have been filmed, and had they been filmed and then watched the video of themselves, it is highly likely that watching themselves fucking each other with such abandon would have accomplished exactly that which Finn was then trying to accomplish, which was to persuade Jeff to fuck him again (before Max returned, though those three words were never spoken).

Finn’s story of how he’d fucked the only other homo that he’d ferreted out on the baseball team, a junior backup outfielder named Rex, in the dugout a couple of hours after the last home game of the season had ended, his assurance that he and Jeff would fuck in the dugout, and soon, and Jeff’s growing intrigue with the notion of fucking in public or at least quasi•public fucking, had Jeff close to acquiescing to Finn’s plea that he (Jeff) bone him (Finn) again - he was certainly ready to fuck him again - but in the end he couldn’t be budged. He was saving that load, by agreement with Max.

Jeff’s concern was simply that he couldn’t afford another orgasm, not then, and (alas) not with Finn. Had it already been Saturday night, with the cover of darkness that would have provided, Jeff probably would have tossed aside his reservations, and driven Finn to the baseball field, and then driven him home against the dugout rail, as Finn had driven home that (according to Finn) sexy, short•dicked outfielder who Jeff surmised must have been fucked in the ass as often as Landen had, since that kid’s asshole had not only swallowed Finn’s beer•can•cock with ease, to hear Finn tell it, it had sucked Finn’s cock into itself like it was a fucking vacuum cleaner.

What Jeff had wondered was who had been fucking that Rex kid so much (and with so much cock) that a cock as consequential as Finn’s had gotten lost in his relatively skinny ass...and then he’d suddenly known it had to have been the baseball team’s manager, Mitchell. Mitchell, with the luxury of having enough cock for two guys, had told Jeff when they’d first started trading hand•jobs, that he kind of had a thing for guys with average•sized (or smaller) dicks...he liked the way they looked and the way they sucked. He was into Jeff because he was Jeff, not because Jeff had a fat watermelon🍉dick.

Jeff had no qualms about spending more time in the sack with Finn, nor was he worried about getting ‘caught’ by Max if he were to give Finn what he wanted. Jeff had happily offered to allow Finn to show him again how queer for him he was by topping him; Jeff thought that would have been swell. He even briefly entertained Finn’s suggestion that he (Jeff) just fuck him ‘a little bit,’ to fuck him short of climax...but Jeff had known that if he started pounding that tight, slick, pink hole again, there was virtually no chance that he’d withdraw before he’d gotten his rocks off. Jeff wasn’t all•fucked•out, but he knew there was no fucking way he was going to be able to perform on Saturday anything like he had on Friday night (until dawn Saturday). And he was intent upon saving whatever he had left for Max - or possibly giving Finn one more stiff injection (with orgasm), but only if the three of them were having sex together.

“C’mon, bro, don’t be like that,” Jeff said as he played with Finn’s foreskin. “It’s not like I don’t want to be with you, because I do. At least come take a shower with me...and then if you change your mind, you can nail my ass to the shower wall. Or go find Mitchell...I can promise you if you bend over for his ten•incher, you won’t even remember what my little grade•school dick feels like.” “Ten•and•a•half inches,” Finn said. “Huh?” Jeff asked, realizing that he’d simply been estimating the size of Mitchell’s giant ginger cock, as had Coach. He’d never even asked Mitchell how big it was, since it was obviously huge. “Mitchell told you he’s ten•and•a•half inches?”

“No,” Finn replied, “I told him. I actually measured it one night when we were fucking around. I measured him with a tape measure exactly the way you’re supposed to, you know, like I googled ‘How to Measure an Erect Penis.’ It said to push the end of the tape all the way to where the base of your dick meets the pubic bone and then measure along the top all the way to your pee•hole, so that’s how I did it. He’s got a solid ten•and•a•half inches of hard dick, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“Well, fuck, maybe I ought to re•measure mine then,” Jeff said, “I’d probably find another half•inch, too, if I did it like that. Anyway, even if you don’t want to bend over for Mitchell yet, shouldn’t you at least be fucking him? Didn’t you make him a promise yesterday?” “Yeah I did,” Finn conceded, “and I will as soon as he doesn’t have somebody else on top of him. Or vice versa. Him and Dewey were still fucking when I met you at the pool, and they’re probably still fucking. OK, c’mon, I’ll at least scrub your back...”

“Dude, I thought you were supposed to be such a big fucking top,” Jeff said, laughing, “so please fucking top me again.” “I am a fucking top,” Finn insisted, “I’m just trying to get better in touch with my inner bottom. So do you actually want me to fuck you again or are you just trying to ease my pain over the rejection of my attempt to become your bitch?”

“Just help me get better in touch with my own inner bottom today,” Jeff said, winking at Finn, “and I’ll pay you back double.” He did a muff•five for Finn’s fat ball•sack and sucked his (Finn’s) left nut into his mouth. “Triple,” Finn demanded, spreading his legs to grant Jeff freer access to his balls. “When?” “How’s Monday - Tuesday sound? At the ballpark?” Jeff asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far. He dove back in for Finn’s right nut, taking Finn’s fleshy, swelling cock in his hand as he sucked Finn’s nuts.

“That’ll work,” Finn agreed, laughing. “Now let’s get you cleaned up for Max, you dirty fucker.” Jeff deep•throated Finn’s nascent boner, perhaps not as expertly as Finn might have deep•throated him, but more than sufficient to finish stiffening him. He sat up and kissed Finn, probing his mouth with his tongue while gently squeezing Finn’s hard•on, then a few moments later his mouth moved down to Finn’s left nipple, first circling it and a surrounding cluster of short, white•blond hairs with his tongue, before sucking the nipple hard, always maintaining pressure on Finn’s cock. Jeff wanted Finn not just to fuck him but to really want to fuck him, as if fucking him had been Finn’s intention all along.

By the time Jeff had finished nibbling Finn’s right nipple, Finn was beginning to leak a small amount of pre•cum, and his breathing had changed, signaling a hormonal flood that had made getting off deep inside Jeff Finn’s paramount, if not his only, thought. He stood up on the mattress and pulled Jeff up with him. For an instant they were both looking at the beautiful man in the wall photographs who Jeff favored so much. “Coach’s lover, you think?” Finn asked “Maybe his ex,” Jeff replied. “If it’s the guy Coach told me about...they used to live together...and then he broke Coach’s heart, somehow.” He took Finn by the hand and they hurried down the stairs to the shower.

Finn scrubbed Jeff’s smooth broad back with tingly Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, then soaped his hairy ass, wedging his hand into Jeff’s crack and sticking a long, soapy finger into Jeff’s nipple•colored asshole. Jeff turned and braced against the wall, widening his stance for Finn. To Jeff’s mild surprise, Finn dropped to one knee behind him and spread his butt•cheeks apart, then tentatively licked his crack, barely grazing the surface of his skin with the tip of his tongue, and stopping short of his bulls•eye.

“Press harder with your tongue,” Jeff said softly. Finn licked him again, harder, and with his third lick Finn pressed his tongue against an asshole for the first time in his life, causing Jeff to shiver. Noting Jeff’s reaction and discovering that his butt•hole tasted like nothing except flesh and peppermint soap, Finn applied himself with more and more vigor until Jeff was slapping the wall with his hand, and then demanding that Finn shove his thick beer•can•cock up his ass.

Finn stood up and tested the liquid soap on his cock, stroking himself a few times to get fully hard again. Finding that the mild soap didn’t burn his piss•hole, he lubed Jeff’s hole with tingly Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, squirted some more of it on his boner and then guided it into Jeff’s open hole. With both hands on Jeff’s shoulders, he thrust in far enough to gain traction, then sunk his cock balls•deep with one long, steady thrust as Jeff moaned with pleasure.

Finn was fucking Jeff hard with rapid, deep thrusts when they heard Max ask, “Got room for one more in there?” Finn whispered something in Jeff’s ear and when Jeff nodded, he replied, “There’s room inside me, Max...come fill me up...” Max hadn’t waited for an answer to strip off his clothes and he already had his hand in Finn’s crack when Jeff said, “Fuck, Max, I thought you’d never get back...help me out by hammering this guy’s tiny dick in a little deeper...”⚾️

⚾️⚾️⚾️.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 101, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj66

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #57

🏈🏈🏈.

Without prompting from Jeff, Max got up and snatched Coach’s Astro•glide off the bed where Coach had begun rocking in and out of Finn’s previously•virgin ass. “They got rhythm,” Max whispered gleefully when he returned to the love•lounge and started lubing his mentor’s hefty fire•pole. Quickly sizing up the love•lounge he thought reverse•cowboy would be the best route to go. “Hey stud, can you stand my weight on your thighs, one foot on each?” “I’ll try anything at least once,” Jeff said chuckling, recalling how the blood had flowed to his groin when Max had said the same thing to him in the shower•room several hours earlier.

“And if you’re about to do what I think you are, this is gonna be a pretty wicked - and quick - outing.” The he•devil was about to do exactly what Jeff thought he was going to do, which was to squat on his thighs facing away from him, lower his ass down onto Jeff’s throbbing cock and, using the over•stuffed arms of the love•lounge as leverage for his muscular arms, turn his fuck•tunnel into a rapid•fire cock•plunger. “Aim and steady your missile for me,” the he•devil whispered, “and try not to make as much noise as you normally do.” The other fuckers in the room were by then making plenty of noise themselves, and Coach’s bed was rocking pretty steadily if slowly, although Jeff’s view of that fucking had been blocked by Max’s tensed, rippling back. He loved his new view, as he steadied Max with one hand on his hip, his other hand holding his cock until Max’s ass began to swallow it.

Contact. Rear entry. Engagement. Plunge. Push•up. Plunge. Push•up. Plunge. Grind. Holy fucking shit. Push•up. Plunge. Grind. Jesus Fucking Christ. Push•up. Plunge. Grind. Push•up. Plunge. Push•up. Grind. Plunge. Push•up. Ignition. Plunge. Blast•off🚀. Holy fucking he•devil. Push•up. Plunge...until Jeff was completely spent.💦

•••••••

“I’ve got footprints on my legs,” Jeff said to Coach a few minutes later. He was still in a daze after the squat•fucking Max had given him while Finn was losing his anal virginity, and he wasn’t really sure where Max had disappeared to or how long he’d been talking to Coach, who had obviously completed Finn’s de•flowering. “I mean, they’re like DEEP footprints...” “That’s something I’ve heard about but never seen before,” Coach said, craning his neck for a better look, “but there’s no doubt in my mind - those are he•devil tracks.”

“How’s Finn?” Jeff asked, concerned about his new friend’s undoubtedly sore rear•end. He already knew Max was a he•devil. “He’s fine. He wants me to fuck him again after we both recover. Hot tub in the meantime? And where the fuck is Mitchell? I haven’t seen him in...hours.” He extended a hand to Jeff and pulled him up. “Hey Jeff, come this way, I want to show you something.”

🏈🏈🏈.

Coach led Jeff through the living room and kitchen, past the laundry room and a door to the garage, to another bedroom on the opposite side of the house. “Very cool,” Jeff observed. The room had more of a den•like feel than a bedroom, despite the queen•size bed, in part due to the brick floor and floor•to•ceiling bookshelves filling one wall. The ceiling was vaulted with a small loft accessed by a circular staircase in the far corner. There was also a large flat•screen TV, a desk and what looked like a mini•fridge on the opposite wall. Two pairs of french doors that opened onto the pool and hot tub area. Jeff must have seen the glass doors from the outside when he’d been hanging out in the hot tub, but he’d never been in the room nor, that he could recall, had he even wondered where those doors led.

“This’ll be your room this weekend, and Max’s, of course. There’s a private bathroom, nice roomy shower, through that door...I want you to keep the house•key I gave you and consider this room yours after the weekend, too, OK? Whenever you want to use it, come and go as you please, no need to check with me. And feel free to bring Max here anytime...that’s really the whole point.”

Jeff was overwhelmed by Coach’s generosity. “Coach, I don’t even know what to say. My own personal fuck•nest? Wow.” Jeff pulled Coach to him and kissed him. “Thank you. I promise not to wear out my welcome. Whenever I stay over without Max, Coach, are you going to...um...come visit me back here?” “That’s not the point, Jeff,” Coach replied, “and you can’t wear out your welcome, it’s yours. I want you to have a safe place to spend time with...your friends. But I’m not ruling out the occasional private visit, you know, if we’re both at loose ends...and it feels right.”

Coach had already decided that after he fucked Finn again that night, or maybe after they did whatever they did the next morning if they woke up together, he was making all of his student•athletes off•limits to himself...except for possibly Jeff...and except for the Sunday Night Train, which would be his finalé. But he was already having serious second thoughts about the train, and he knew he ought to make Jeff off•limits, too. He just couldn’t, though, not yet. Besides, the way Jeff and Max had fallen for each other, there was a good chance Max would decide that question - Jeff might not be available, even if Coach wanted to break his rules (again) with him.

Finn and Max joined them in the hot tub a few minutes later, laughing about something, possibly the fact that both of them had had to race to the shitter after getting fucked. “...that’s just part of it, you know, but no, not every time...” Or they could have been laughing about how fucking good their pair of fat beer•can•cocks, each under neatly trimmed pubes, looked together. Coach had found Mitchell when he and Jeff had left Jeff’s cozy new fuck•nest through the french doors - he was underneath Dewey on the Corbin Fisher pool•side fuck•platform on the other side of the pool.

🏈🏈🏈.

The first•hand experience of the guys at Coach’s house that night with Dewey as a sex partner and, more specifically, as a top, was fairly limited: Jeff had flipped with him in the locker•room the night before; Dewey had surprise•fucked Coach at Jeff’s instigation shortly thereafter, with both Mitchell and Jeff looking on; and, by the time Coach and Jeff had lowered themselves into the hot tub, Mitchell had fucked Dewey twice (once on the folded•down lounge chair near the hot tub and once on the CF fuck•platform during Jeff’s epic topping of Max); and Dewey had topped Mitchell twice (the first time also on the CF fuck•platform, the fuck that had already been in•progress when Jeff and Max had returned from their pizza break and Jeff’s epic topping had begun, and again in a bedroom down the hall from Coach’s bedroom while Coach was oh•so•slowly working his thick penis into Finn’s very tight hole).

The available data from the group’s combined experience with Dewey as a top (excluding the ass•fucking underway across the pool from the hot tub, for which data was not yet available) conclusively established that Dewey was both a very filling fucker and a very hard fucker, fucking at essentially one speed after he got his big dick inside, which was fast and hard. Had any of them asked Dewey how he fucked, he probably would have laughed and said, “Like a brother, man.”

🏈🏈🏈.

“Hey Gumby•dick,” Jeff said, greeting Finn with a big smile, a high•five and finally a soul shake, “I hear you’re FUCKED.” “I am,” Finn agreed, beaming. Jeff greeted Max with a kiss and a discreet grope, loving the feeling of all that meat in his hand. “So how’s it feel?” Jeff asked Finn. “Is it true that getting fucked in the ass turns you into a fag?”

“I suppose it’s possible that I could wake up in the morning with, you know, a lisp and a limp wrist, put on a pink button•down and makeup, and freak out over the wall•paper or my nails,” Finn reported, “but for right now...I still feel like a dumb jock, but a more complete dumb jock, like...even manlier, somehow. And everything you told me about the first time was true, but what you didn’t tell me was that I wouldn’t want it to end or that after it ended I’d want it to start all over again as soon as possible...”

“That’s because what I did tell you is pretty much universally true,” Jeff explained. “Getting fucked in the ass the first couple of times does hurt, but it fucking feels good, too...to me, there’s nothing more intimate or manlier that can happen between two dudes than taking one up the ass. But what I didn’t tell you, about whether you’d be pestering Coach to fuck you all night, that’s not necessarily universal from what I understand. Some homos just aren’t into getting fucked in the ass, you know, and I respect that - unless they haven’t tried it.”

“It’s like I can still kind of feel Coach inside me,” Finn said as he put his strong arm around Coach, “and it’s a good feeling, but what I really want is the real thing.” “Yeah, I heard that you’d dumped your No. 2 man for a more experienced lover,” Jeff said, laughing. “For a less well•endowed lover,” Coach quipped. “You’ll still be the second guy inside me, bro,” Finn said, “but I don’t want to wait until tomorrow, and I don’t want to mess up my chances of winning the pool by pulling you away from Max...” He also thought, not unreasonably, that he probably needed a bit more breaking in before he’d be able to accommodate Jeff’s big, fat, watermelon🍉dick, as much as he wanted it.

“I thought it was beautiful,” Max said quietly, not responding to anything but the moment and what was in his head. “I’ve never seen a more tender, patient lover than Coach was with you, Finn. Thanks for letting us share that amazing experience.” There followed a few moments of thoughtful, though not awkward, silence after Max’s injection of seriousness into the conversation. “I wish I’d thought to say that,” Jeff admitted, breaking the silence first. “I couldn’t agree more...it really was beautiful.” He put his hand on Max’s thigh underwater, giving his leg a firm, loving squeeze. And that time he didn’t fondle Max’s junk, not wanting to give Max the false impression that all he cared about was his penis. He’d reach for that scrumptious handful of cock again in a few minutes, he could wait...

“I felt like that the whole time, Coach,” Finn said, “that you couldn’t have been more loving, and how lucky I was that it was you.” To Jeff’s surprise (but not displeasure) Finn’s hand was suddenly - and surreptitiously - in his lap, then holding, then gently squeezing, his fat soft cock, hidden from view by the roiling black water. Jeff closed his eyes and lay his head back, a thin smile creasing his lips as his dick began to respond. He was almost sorry when just as suddenly Finn stopped groping him, but he knew that was for the best. Finn had just been letting him know that he hadn’t forgotten about him, and Jeff appreciated that.

“Thanks, guys, now stop embarrassing me,” Coach said after another brief silence. “I had a friend and lover at a similarly and singularly important moment for me, who taught me to always...treat...that word doesn’t do justice...what he actually said, when I was pretty scared of what was about to happen and at the same time couldn’t wait for it to happen, was that he was ‘going to fuck me as tenderly and as gently and as passionately as he would want me to fuck him if our positions were reversed.’ And then that’s exactly what he did. My friend called that his ‘’Golden Fucking Rule.’” “Was that your frat•friend Jack, Coach?” Jeff asked. He’d heard a number of Coach’s stories about Jack, and that sounded to Jeff like something Jack might say. “No, but I told Jack about that later, and he adopted it as his own Golden Fucking Rule...as in he really believed he’d made it up,” Coach replied, laughing.

🏈🏈🏈.

What Jeff and Coach had observed from across the pool when they walked through the french doors of Jeff’s cozy new fuck•nest was the beginning of Dewey and Mitchell’s fifth (and last) coupling of the night. Dewey, who’d found that he rather liked having Mitchell’s ten•inch cock tickle places inside him that had not ever been tickled before, or at least not before Mitchell had started tickling them that night, had expected to have those deep places tickled by Mitchell again during their fifth coupling, but Mitchell had not only had a different idea about who was going to tickle whom, and had not only insisted on that point, but he’d also had a different idea as to HOW Dewey should go about tickling his own deep recesses, recesses that had only been tickled before (he was pretty sure) by Jeff and, that night, also by Dewey. Not that Mitchell hadn’t enjoyed getting the fuck pounded out of himself by Dewey, because he had, but he was ready for something...well, different.

So Mitchell had insisted on anything but fast and hard. He wanted Dewey to fuck him long, slow and deep; slow•boning, withdrawing his cock almost to its head every time before slowly pushing back in balls•deep; and also some balls•deep grinding with no or almost no withdrawal; and some slow•ish middle•depth rectal massage; and when Dewey began to feel the pressure of an orgasm building, he wanted Dewey to stop and let the moment pass and then begin seeking that moment again, slowly, and then let it pass again. Mitchell got all of that from Dewey, and Dewey got enthusiastic encouragement and praise in return, as well as a new appreciation for just how fucking good his dick felt inside of Mitchell the longer it stayed there. To be sure, there were times when Dewey would get carried away and start pounding the fuck out of that tight pink hole again - until Mitchell slowed him down again. But those times were good, too, serving to emphasize as they did the slower, more sensuous times.

During the last breath•catching, cock•clenching pause before Dewey finally came, Mitchell gave voice to something he’d wanted to say every time Dewey had topped him, but that he’d been too nervous or too politically correct or too color•blind to say. “Hey Dewey, would it be OK with you,” he asked as he held Dewey tightly to himself, “if when we start fucking again if I said shit like, ‘Fuck me with your big black dick,’ or ‘Give me that big black cock,’ or would that sound, you know, like racist, or racially insensitive, to you?” Dewey had burst out laughing, loud enough that their friends in the hot tub heard and looked across the pool to see what was happening.

“Mitchell,” he finally said, “I love that shit...and as long as you use the word ‘BIG,’ you can say any damn thing you want.”

“Good,” Mitchell replied, “because whenever I thought those words it felt kind of...racy...to me.” When their fucking resumed immediately thereafter, and grinding gave way to slow•boning and slow•boning gave way to hard, fast ass•pounding, Mitchell exclaimed, “Oh fuck yeah, hammer me with your big black cock!” and “Fuck me with that big black cock!” and “That’s it, give me all of your big black dick!” and “Fuck yeah, feel that big black cock squirt!” loud enough to be heard by their friends across the pool, but not, Coach hoped, by the neighbors who lived on the other side of his privacy fence. Even after Mitchell’s last shout, Dewey’s big black cock kept pumping and squirting, until he finally collapsed on Mitchell, as satisfied as he’d ever been]].

🏈🏈🏈.

“How old were you then, Coach?” Mitchell asked as he began to massage Coach’s neck and shoulders. He and Dewey, who had just finished practicing a variation of that same Golden Fucking Rule a few minutes before, had walked up from behind Coach, unseen by him. “Ah, Mitchell, I’ll give you an hour to stop doing that,” Coach replied, pushing back into Mitchell’s hands, appreciating his long, strong fingers. “I was 20, just a few days before I turned 21, during spring semester of my junior year in college. I had topped several guys in the few years before then, but I hadn’t ever had any desire to bottom, maybe not too different from Finn or Jeff...until I did want it, with that guy - whose name was Paul - in particular.”

For the assembled student•athlete homos, the oldest of which were 18, that news was somewhat encouraging, or at least not discouraging, in that it showed them that even with such a ”late” start one could still become very, very good at what one did before one was too old for it to matter. “Were you always queer?” Mitchell asked.

“Not this queer, I’ve never been this fucking queer,” Coach replied, laughing. “I think I did always know that about myself, but I fought it harder than, say, Jeff, appears to be fighting it. I’d had more girlfriends, some seemingly serious, than secret boyfriends before I met Paul, and I finally began to accept the fact that I wasn’t really bi•sexual, as I’d been telling myself, I was just practicing heterosexuality to dampen the much stronger attraction I had to men. The way Paul’s cock felt inside me was largely, but not entirely, responsible for that new understanding of myself. Certainly that was the tipping point. Thanks to Paul, when Jack and I hooked the following year, I was ready to discover that I had ‘the soul of a bottom.’”🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 99, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj57

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #52

🏈🏈🏈.

Team

Killer Rimming

Let Max Decide🍉.

“C’mon, Max, making a decision isn’t nearly as hard as your dick,” Jeff had pleaded. “Just tell me what you want to do.”

“I want you to fuck me like a wild beast with your big, fat watermelon🍉dick,” Max said at last, “but rim me first...and if you’d rather that I play the beast, I’ll ride your cock like I rode Coach’s, like I promised I’d do when you made me your protege.”

“That,” Jeff said decisively - and Max had rolled over eagerly, presenting his lean, hairy ass to to his mentor, with Dewey and Mitchell watching from across the pool.

🏈🏈🏈.

Max wasn’t completely new to rimming, but his experience in that category of things that well•rounded homos did with each other was much more limited than in most of the other categories he’d tried. Rimming just wasn’t something that most high school guys knew or cared about. Even Landen, who was as in touch with his own asshole as anyone Max knew, had been completely disinterested in rimming, presumably because Max couldn’t lick Landen’s asshole and drive his cock through it at the same time - not that Max had particularly wanted to rim Landen. He had offered, though, before he’d quit fucking Landen.

Almost all of Max’s experience with rimming had been with his two older half•brothers, hunky identical twins, who had brought that new trick home with them from college last Christmas break. The twins had also been the ones who’d first taught him how to suck cock and then how to fuck, first as a bottom and then as a top, though they had not provided him with his first, mostly masturbatory, homosexual experiences. Nor had his older half•brothers sought him out as their personal cock•socket, to Max’s adolescent chagrin. Instead, Max had had to seek out their cocks and demand that his brothers use them to fill his empty sockets.

Max had known that he was queer to his core since at least puberty, which had come relatively early to him, at age 12, and he’d been jacking off his buddies (and vice•versa) almost since he’d started masturbating alone. By 13, he’d figured out that his stud 16•year•old half•brothers were queer•as•fuck and doing together some of the more advanced shit that he was keenly interested in trying, but which was still a bridge too far for his youthful j/o buds. He’d looked for his opportunity and then, just shy of his 14th birthday, Max had ‘caught’ the twins, then 17, giving each other head late one night when he’d picked the simple household lock on their bedroom door and burst in on them wearing only a (bulging) towel around his waist, demanding that he be allowed to participate.

Max had always been a big kid for his age, and he was already as tall as the twins, though not as heavy, which is simply to say that he didn’t look much different to the twins from their other 16 and 17•year•old sex partners. Until he’d dropped that towel. Then he’d looked different. Max’s cock, which was considerably bigger than the twins’ own ample and nearly identical units (and those of their other 16 and 17•year•old sex partners), had been the decisive factor in their decision to take turns sucking their kid brother’s huge cock until he’d ejaculated spectacularly all over their happy, smiling faces, and then under their careful tutelage, he’d given his first two blow•jobs to the twins.

That cum•drenched night had not been a stand•alone event in the brothers’ evolving relationship; rather almost every night (and many of the afternoons that Max didn’t have football practice) that followed for several months played out along similar lines with similar results, with the exceptions that (1) Max was an eagerly welcomed participant, no longer required to break•in and demand his share, and (2) often on weekends one or another of the twins’ queer friends would spend the night and exchange blowjobs with the well•hung kid brother as well as with the twins.

Within a few months of Max’s first blowjob the twins had started fucking each other, too, although that fact had not been disclosed to Max. When the older brothers fucked, they would usually flip after Max had left their room and gone to sleep, or sometimes one would fuck the other in the shower in the morning before school. The twins excluded Max from the extra benefits they were enjoying only because of his tender age, and not because they didn’t want to fuck Max in his already fine, lean and increasingly hairy ass. One twin in particular looked forward to fucking that ass at the appropriate time; the other often fantasized that it was Max’s horse•dick plowing him while he was getting plowed by his twin.

Max eventually found out what was going on behind his back one morning when he’d urgently had to take a dump and the twins had forgotten to lock the bathroom door before showering together. Max had assumed that only one of the twins was in the shower and the other was either still in bed or had already gone downstairs, until he’d realized that the sounds he heard coming from the shower while he sat on the toilet were caused by more than just running water. He’d yanked the shower curtain back and watched (to the twins’ horror) one of his older brothers driving his cock into his other older brother’s asshole; so very close to orgasm, that morning’s top had made the reasonable decision to get in three more rapid thrusts and blow his load in his twin’s ass, despite Max’s intrusion, rather than stop fucking his brother and blow his load in his hand.

Max was incredibly aroused by that scene, and then incredibly hurt that he’d been left out, and finally had gotten angry for having been left out, all in the span of a couple of minutes. At the time, the twins had only gotten angry, but a difference of opinion soon developed between the two older brothers as to how long, exactly, they ought to wait before they fucked a ‘little’ brother who by then was both taller and heavier than they were, and who had a killer cock bigger than either of theirs, which Max was no longer allowing them to suck since they wouldn’t introduce him to brother•fucking.

The twin who strongly preferred the role of bottom probably would have let Max fuck him in the shower by the next morning; the twin who strongly preferred the top role was initially adamant that they shouldn’t fuck their younger half•brother before he turned 15, an arbitrary date then several months away. When the twins’ sleepover friends learned that sleepovers no longer included access to the well•hung little brother, some of them began to trade blowjobs directly with Max, without going through his ‘prudish’ older brothers.

The twins knew it was just a matter of time, and likely not very much time, before those ‘friends’ were fucking and getting fucked by Max, and they were left with no one to fuck but themselves, a point repeatedly driven home to them by their fiery little brother, who had begun to respond to everything either twin said to him (outside the presence of their parents) with ‘Go fuck yourselves,’ and when the twins had stopped addressing Max at all, given the sheer futility of it, Max had begun greeting them with ‘Go fuck yourselves.’

Something plainly had to give, and it became clear to the twins that the only something that was going to give was going to be them. And give they did, at last welcoming their little brother into their bed(s), with the strange proviso that they would fuck Max in the ass, pretty much whenever he wanted, but they wouldn’t let him top them until he was 15, another arbitrary decision likely originating with the top•twin. Those circumstances persisted for almost an entire week before Max was secretly topping the bottom•twin on the side, usually in the shower or in Max’s bed. When the top•twin discovered that he was being cuckolded, he got with the program and bent•over for Max the first time a few months before Max’s 15th birthday.

The three brothers had quickly restored fraternal harmony on the second floor of the family home, which was thereafter awash in semen as Max’s education proceeded apace. Max loved (and still loves) his half•brothers, and he learned a lot from them, but he wasn’t the only one learning. Two of the things the twins had learned about their little bro was that Max was a fuck•ton more stubborn than they’d already known he was, and, fortunately for the top•twin, that Max didn’t hold grudges over the exercise of poor judgment by teen•agers. A third thing the twins gradually came to understand sometime after Max had learned the basic ins•and•outs of ass•fucking, was that their kid brother, who was also developing into a very fine middle•school quarterback, had somehow become the undisputed alpha on the second floor of the family home.

🏈🏈🏈.

Besides rimming and being rimmed by his half•brothers, Max’s only other rimming experience had been Coach eating his ass that evening in the shower•room, and that had been an altogether different experience from anything he and the twins had ever even imagined. Basically, he and his brothers had licked each other’s cracks a few times and, finally, each other’s assholes, which had not sucked, but with Coach he’d had the sensation not quite of having been fucked by a tongue, but not that far from that, either, more like being teased an inch or so inside his asshole with a super•supple and super•wet dick...but really it was like nothing else he’d ever experienced.

When Jeff rimmed him by Coach’s pool later that same Friday night, it had very definitely been like something he had experienced before, in fact, very like what he’d experienced in the shower•room just a few hours earlier, and nothing like one of the twins diffidently licking his asshole for a minute or so. He wasn’t consciously comparing Coach and Jeff at the time - what he’d been thinking (without using the L•word) was that the hottest fucking guy he’d ever met was loving (he couldn’t think about Jeff’s tongue burrowing into and rotating in his anal canal without using the L•word) him in the most selfless and intimate way imaginable.

Had Max made such a comparison, later and dispassionately, he likely would have concluded that Coach had been more technically proficient, though not by that much, but that Jeff had carried the night on intangibles, by simply being who he was (and other factors related to the L•word). For his part, Jeff had thought about nothing other than consuming as much of Max as he possibly could, in whatever way he could. Had he been asked about those few minutes the next day, he might well have not initially remembered that he’d rimmed Max, and certainly not exquisitely, possibly he would have recalled only that in consuming Max he had been consumed by him.

“One thing about fucking like we’re about to fuck,” Max had observed while lovingly lubing Jeff’s rock•hard 18•year•old cock (and after finally removing his sweat•and•cum•soaked shirt), “is that neither one us can last very long, and you...OK, two things...and that you really have no control over what I promise you is going to be an incredible orgasm...you’re going to cum pretty quickly, and we’re both going to be glad you did. So don’t even try to resist it, just enjoy it.” Jeff reached up and touched Max’s face gently, really just brushing the backs of his fingers down Max’s cheek. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to.

“The other thing is that it’s going to make me rock•hard—” “You already are,” Jeff interrupted, laughing and grabbing Max’s boner.

“Busted,” Max agreed, also laughing. “But if I weren’t already, it would. I’m just saying that the reason I’m lubing your hole now - lift your legs a little - is that as soon as my ass has wrung out the last drop of cum from your big fat watermelon🍉dick, I’m climbing off of your cock and then back on top of you and fucking you as hard as I can with my beer•can•cock for not very long, either. And then we’re going to eat a slice of pizza to keep our strength up and settle into some long, very satisfying fucking. That, and I’m not waiting for you to make another fucking decision about anything, at least not tonight, because for such an über•alpha•beast, Jeff, you surprisingly suck at decision•making. Now, have you got anything to say that’s extremely important?”

“Kiss me, you fabulous he•devil,” Jeff replied, grinning lasciviously (his very good look), “before you fuck me to death.” After Max had hungrily complied with Jeff’s request and was positioning himself over Jeff, Jeff had lolled his head to the left and happened to see, across the pool - he couldn’t have missed it because they were under the lights - two guys fucking doggy•style on a pool•side lounge, in what seemed like slow•motion but wasn’t, the smaller pink•white guy on top of/behind the larger milk•chocolate guy, endlessly drawing out inch after inch of the biggest, pinkest cock he’d ever seen (in person), eight or nine inches fully outside that milk•chocolate ass before the process reversed itself until every inch of that huge pink cock was lost to sight, buried to its hilt in that sweet milk•chocolate ass...

Max followed his gaze and said quietly, “That’s beautiful...I love to get fucked like that, too.” ‘Noted,’ Jeff thought, and then the he•devil began the short, violent but equally beautiful process of pumping every ounce of semen out of his (Jeff’s) balls with his (Max’s) incredibly fine, athletic ass...that extraordinary extraction had taken about as long as the he•devil had led him to expect, which was not very, but he never thought it had ended too soon, only that he’d had the most intensely powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced in his young life, eclipsing what he’d felt when Coach had ridden him the same way on the locker•room bench...

...and then he’d been vaguely, blissfully aware of pulling his legs back for the entry of that astonishing, feral, tender he•devil and being slowly, gently filled and refilled to capacity, filled in a way that nearly silenced the longing for cock echoing in his bowels, before being absolutely hammered, wonderfully hammered, as had been promised by the he•devil, hammered to the edge of oblivion. After the he•devil had collapsed on top of him in a shouting, heaving, sweat•drenched heap of orgasmic bliss, Jeff had burrowed his nose into one of Max’s sweaty, masculine armpits and had understood for the first time precisely why Coach did the same thing to him after every time he and Coached fucked...although in his fog he couldn’t quite articulate that reason. All he could do was hug Max to himself as tightly as he could, and inhale him again.

Off to his left, he heard splashing and laughter in the pool, and then Dewey’s voice asking, “So what’s the over/under on those two?” and Mitchell’s voice answering, “Eleven.” “What’s your position?” “Over.” “Think they’ll make it?” “He gets stronger the more he fucks...and will keep waking you up all night long to keep fucking you more, with you being glad to be re•awakened each time...and from what I’ve seen so far I’d say Max is cut from the same fucking cloth...so I think we set the O/U way too low...unless they fuck themselves to death...”

“Grrr,” Jeff growled in Max’s ear, and pulled him to his feet, noting the flexed bulge of the backup QB’s right bicep. “Very quick pizza break, stud,” Jeff said in between hungry kisses, “and then I’m going to fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

But before that, Max and Jeff made cannonballs out of themselves in order to bombard Mitchell and Dewey, and then hurled themselves into the pool. They were still teenagers, after all, even if they did (sometimes) fuck like grown•ass men.🏈

🏈🏈🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 91, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj52

[jacks-new-dick-2]

The Transfer Jock, #46

🏈⚾️🏈.

Mitchell unlocked the field house, and he and the two transfer•jocks stripped naked as soon as they were inside, their sweat•drenched shorts, shirts, jockstraps, cleats and running shoes left in a jumbled pile by the door, each of them reveling in the beauty of the other two. “Showers, comma, ass•fucking,” Jeff insisted and grabbed Finn’s fat, gorgeous and still•growing beer•can•cock, pulling him along through the locker•room to the showers. Finn in turn grabbed Mitchell’s giant ginger boner and pulled him after him.

🏈⚾️🏈.

The locker•room was dark but the light in the shower•room was on, and provided more than enough light by which to make their way. The fact that the shower room was lit up wasn’t unusual; one of the rooms in the complex was usually left illuminated. What was unusual, they discovered as they drew nearer, was the sound of running water and, as they got closer still, the unmistakable, though muffled, sounds of fucking, almost certainly of two guys fucking.

The three well•hung jocks, each already in some state of arousal, stood quietly in the doorway to the shower•room watching the sizzling hot scene in front of them. One of the guys was lying on his back on the floor under the falling water, legs slightly crouched, his feet toward them, the second guy, his back to them, energetically riding his partner’s thick cock, cowboy•style, riding high up the shaft and thrusting his ass down hard, all the way down to his partner’s big bouncing ball•sack, with remarkable rapidity and dexterity, the guy on top (the bottom) was leaning forward, his hands planted on the floor somewhere out of the voyeurs’ line of sight, and he was repeatedly pumping his very fine (if lean) ass down onto an impressive cock, a cock which two of the three watchers eventually (but not immediately) recognized.

“Hey...those are Coach’s balls...” Jeff said in a barely audible whisper. “But who’s that hot fucker on top of him?” Mitchell whispered just as quietly. “I dunno, but I sure hope Coach brings him home to us,” Jeff replied. “Should we go?” Finn whispered. “Unh unh,” Mitchell replied, “Coach won’t mind...besides this is almost over.” By that point the fucking had become even more frenzied, the bottom•on•top slamming down harder and faster and Coach thrusting up powerfully to meet his down•stroke. “Is...is that the kid you said was straight?” Finn asked. “His hair looks kinda...” “Could be...maybe...” Jeff and Mitchell answered together, both wondering, if that were the case, how they could have possibly had such a massive intel failure...and what the fuck was Coach doing fucking a known 16•year•old???

There was a loud roar from the top•on•bottom, followed by Coach’s voice shouting as he blew (or began to blow) his cork, “Oh fuck yes! Fuck yes!”

The guy on top of Coach continued pounding his ass down onto Coach’s cock throughout Coach’s orgasm, “Fuck me, MAX! Fuck me!’ until Coach lay spent on the floor. Max’s ass swallowed Coach’s cock one last time, and Max finally, thankfully (to Jeff and Mitchell) stopped, then leaned forward and joined his mouth to Coach’s. “Yeah, that’s Max, alright,” Jeff whispered helpfully. “He sure does look straight,” Finn replied - and, oops, they all laughed out loud.

“Who’s there?” Coach asked from underneath the back•up QB. He didn’t yell or sound startled or angry, just a calm voice asking a reasonable question. “Uh, sorry, Coach,” Jeff replied, “it’s just us, it’s safe.” Coach whispered something in Max’s ear, and Max shook his head, then started to push himself up off of Coach’s unsheathed cock. (As Jeff learned later that night, Coach, ever the gentleman, had been offering to dismiss the three upperclassmen so as to preserve the sophomore’s (already blown) anonymity).

“OK guys,” Coach said, “hang on, we’re getting up...and then Max is going to nail me to the wall. Max offered Coach a hand and pulled him cleanly to his feet, then turned around to face the voyeur•jocks for the first time. Their arousal complete, all three were rock•hard, and two of them (alas, not Mitchell) were leaking pre•cum. Max had almost every inch of the cock Jeff and Finn (but not of Mitchell, of course) had, thick and uncut, and he was just as hard as the three of them. Jeff was seeing Max as if for the first time, though of course he wasn’t. He was just seeing him nude for the first time. Maybe it was his grown•up, boned•up dick that made Max suddenly look so rugged and mature...not to mention fuckable. And that scruff on his face...when had he grown that?? Whatever it was, Jeff was seeing Max not as some “cute” kid but as a peer...and more than that...as definite boyfriend•material.

“Fuck, sophomore dude,” Jeff said, stretching out his arms, “come to Papa.” Max looked at Coach, presumably for permission, Coach nodded and Max walked across the shower•room floor to Jeff, who took a step or two to meet him. The sophomore, not the senior, took the initiative, taking their massive erect cocks into his two•handed grasp, stroking them slowly together. “Aw, man, why didn’t you tell me you’re a fucking homo?” Jeff asked, thinking of the three+ ‘wasted’ weeks of the intimate companionship the two of them could’ve been enjoying.

Jeff was also calculating, conducting a rapid•fire mental inventory: Had he treated the sophomore like shit during camp like most of the upperclassmen routinely treated the newbies? No, he had not. As a different kind of newbie himself, the transfer•jock had been empathetic, even friendly, to this kid, and complimentary of the tight spirals he’d thrown to him on the few occasions the first and second/third teams had taken snaps together. Jeff was satisfied that he hadn’t been a complete asshole to Max, but was nevertheless disconsolate that he’d failed miserably in identifying the available talent in the locker•room. Coach, though, that fucking goat, had sniffed out this exceptional talent himself...he obviously didn’t need Jeff or Mitchell to bring home their kills to him.

Max laughed, shaking his head. He was as tall as Jeff, with more facial hair and body hair, and almost as much penis, which was way more than enough. “Because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore,” he replied, “because I didn’t really believe you were a fucking homo, too, even though every time I backed•up the QB, if you know what I mean, he’d tell me about you having just fucked him again...but, I don’t know why, I didn’t really believe him, because you could have anybody you wanted, I guess, and until I saw you and Dewey kissing in the parking lot last night and then...you know...I wasn’t sure—”

“So you just went after the fucking Coach?” Jeff asked, laughing. “Ballsy, dude.”

“Not until he gave me the same kind of attention I’d seen him giving you, Dewey and Landen this week,” Max said. “And you’ll understand, I think, that me going after Coach, who happens to be hot•as•fuck, was a helluva lot safer play for me, for a lot of reasons, than going after an upperclassman stud like you or Mitchell or Dewey, and having gotten shot down, either for having been wrong, or having been right but still rejected.”

“Yeah I do,” Jeff said. Teenagers were relentless in their scorn and meanness, while Coach, or probably most adults, would’ve gently deflected a misguided or unwanted pass from a kid, and then pretended like it had never happened. “So here’s my deal, and everyone in this room might deny the part I’m about to say about them, but Coach and I are in love, sort of, you know, at least for the next couple of days; Mitchell and I are best•friends•with•benefits; Finn, this fucking hunk, I just met when you met him, so I don’t think Finn’s going to deny that. But I’m promoting Mitchell, and I hope vice•versa, to boyfriend, and Finn’s going to be my new best•friend•with•benefits. So I’d like for you to be my protege, if you’re interested. I think I need a protege like you.”

“What does that entail?” Max asked warily, but very much interested in the offer. “Nothing, whatever you want to make of it,” Jeff replied, laughing. “You can keep doing whoever you’ve been doing, or do these guys or whoever else you find. But the benefits are substantial: No. 1, you’ve got a claim on my cock or asshole anytime I’m not engaged with anyone else in this room; and No. 2, I’ll have your back and be your wing•man for the rest of my life, or at least until I graduate, whether you’re taking advantage of No. 1 or not. Oh, there is one requirement...you’re going to have to fuck me, once at least, at a time of your choosing, the same way you just fucked Coach.”

“I accept,” Max said, and kissed Jeff like you’d expect a new protege would kiss his new ‘mentor,’ all tongue. When they’d finally managed to break apart from each other, which had been difficult, Jeff had dropped quickly to one knee and filled his mouth with (some of) Max’s hard beer•can•cock. Just as quickly he was back on his feet, whispering in Max’s ear, “I’m going to need to finish that blowjob as soon as possible, too.”

“Bravo,” Coach said, “now as I was saying, Max is about to nail me to the wall, and then he’ll be free to assume his extensive new protege duties.” Coach was already bracing against the wall and opening his stance, past ready to have Max’s rock•hard 16•year•old beer•can•cock all the way up his ass. “What a coincidence,” Jeff said, “Finn was just about to nail me to the wall, too. You guys don’t mind if we fuck right next to you, do you?”

“Of course not,” Coach said. “You know I like to watch almost as much as you do.” “What’s Mitchell going to do while the rest of us fuck?” Max asked, concerned that the horse•dicked manager was getting left out.

“I’m going to sit against the wall,” Mitchell replied, “and suck Jeff’s watermelon🍉dick while Finn hammers it into my mouth, happily masturbating the whole time.”

“Very cool,” Max acknowledged, “so it sounds like you’re covered, but if you decide to edge instead of nutting out, feel free, please, to finish in me after I finish in Coach.”

“I think you can count on that, Max,” Mitchell said, “barring any unfortunate miscalculation on my part. Thanks.”

🏈⚾️🏈.

“...umph...Coach...” Jeff said as Finn drove his thick cock through Jeff’s sphincter and into his rectum, “we have...umph...a special favor...to ask of you...for Finn...later tonight...ugh...” Finn and Jeff were a minute or so behind Max and Coach because Jeff had insisted on watching Max penetrate his partner first, Jeff standing right beside Max with his arm around his waist, watching mesmerized as his protege’s sausage disappeared between Coach’s buns. Before Jeff had braced against the wall to receive Finn’s remarkably similar beer•can•cock, he kissed Max again hungrily, then whispered almost•silently into his ear, “I want you...desperately,” leaving the kid grinning from ear•to•ear and, suddenly, wanting the senior tight•end just as desperately, maybe moreso.

“Bring Finn over...after...you kids...are through...playing...here...” Coach grunted between every one of Max’s power•thrusts. His face and Jeff’s were less than a couple of feet away from each other’s, and they were looking into each other’s eyes throughout their double•ass•hammering. “This shit is good,” Jeff said to Coach as Finn hammered away at him, “and you, you sly fucking dog...what a fucking talent scout you turned out to be...”

“Yes it is,” Coach agreed, winking at his transfer tight•end, as Max continued emphatically nailing him to the wall. “Oh, fuck yeah, Finn!” Jeff yelped, “Queer me more...just like that!”

During a much•needed pause to delay orgasm coincidentally shared by the strapping first baseman and the sophomore back•up QB, the two beer•can•cocked tops shared a spirited high•five. They’d both been watching the other top fuck another guy whom they were eager to sample. For that matter, both tops were eager to sample each other as well. As a sweaty, panting Finn observed to a sweaty, panting Max, “This shit IS good...”

“Yes it fucking is,” Max agreed, and then suggested casually, as if he weren’t already beginning to feel that his need for Jeff was akin to his need for oxygen, “Hey, why don’t we swap?” To which Finn had replied, “That’s why they call me the Transfer Jock!” and Jeff and Coach had cried in unison, “Fuck yeah!”

And so Jeff’s beer•can•cocked new best•friend•with•benefits unplugged his thick plug from Jeff and plugged into Coach for the very first (and not the last) time, as Jeff’s new beer•can•cocked protege unplugged his thick plug from Coach and plugged into Jeff with a rapidly•growing desire for the very first (and not nearly for the last) time. To his new ‘boyfriend,’ Jeff advised, “Mitchell, dude, you’re fucking killing it...be ready to swallow...in a minute...or two...OH FUCK ME MAX!” he shouted as his beer•can•cocked protege entered him emphatically with his somewhat thicker beer•can and resumed precisely where Jeff’s beer•can•cocked best•friend had left off, but with a slightly more...nuanced or polished approach than one usually found in a 16•year•old. Which is to say, that fucking sophomore could really fuck...but not for that much longer on that particular occasion...though more than long enough to leave a lasting electric glow in Jeff’s fuck•tunnel...or heart...or somewhere. Nor, as it turned out, could the blond beer•can•cocked top last much longer.

From the sound of Finn’s concluding outburst, Jeff regretted not seeing his new best•friend’s triumphant climax, but his pangs of regret were shortly assuaged by the swelling of his new protege’s already•swollen•enough beer•can•boner, instantly followed by the protege’s own tremendous explosion deep inside him at almost the same time that his swollen member itself exploded, flooding his new boyfriend’s mouth and throat with gobs of his thick, creamy cum. After certain disentanglements, his new boyfriend, a known (and contented) masturbator, budding cock•artist and future power•bottom, managed to hold his edge just long enough to bury all ten+ inches of his giant ginger cock in Max’s velvety sophomoric rectum, the burying of which cock Jeff had watched close•up, with something like angst or envy (though not wishing to deprive Mitchell of his pleasure), and the early (but understandable) discharge of which had left the young but talented protege wanting more upperclassman penis inside him, namely his new mentor’s.

Coach had disappeared right after Finn had unplugged his thick white•blond plug from his doubly•well•fucked ass, but as he’d been leaving, he asked his lover’s ginger boyfriend to lockup when they were done, and to bring Finn and Max with them when he and Jeff came back to his house. Oh, and he was ordering pizza for his very talented ‘team.’🏈

🏈⚾️🏈.

All episodes of ‘The Transfer Jock,’ #s 1 - 91, WERE also available in reverse chronological order at the top of:

http://jacks-new-dick-2.tumblr.com and

http://the-transfer-jock.tumblr.com.

Unfortunately, 15 scattered episodes have since been blocked by Tumblr. The missing episodes (of which this is one) are being restored.

#transfer jock #text #ttj46