jock-day

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Subject: Jock Day JOCK DAY BY MOORE CHAPTER ONE Coach Ryan got me permanently excused from junior class study hall, supposedly to help him with paper work in his office during the period before my gym class. I help him alright, from my knees and on my back, help to satisfy him sexually, and study his massive cock and humongous balls. Coach studies my ass closely after I blow him, probing deeply into my bowels with the intensity of a scholar. We’ve been studying like this since the end of my freshman year when he caught me on my knees servicing a senior’s cock on graduation day. “In my office, Steven,” he said after reprimanding the red-faced senior boy and sending him on his way. “He made me do it,” I lied, forcing a tear to my eye, wondering how long the coach had been watching and how much he had seen. I was toast if coach had heard me begging the senior who’d been cleaning out his locker, dead meat if he’d seen me licking the hot stud’s ass before going all the way down on his cock. Straight guys see a girl, and because of her looks or the way she talks or walks, something clicks inside and they immediately start thinking about sex. Well, the same is true for queers. I’ll go down on any guy that wants a blow job, but there are some guys, like the senior in the locker room, that deserve to be sucked. I see him and I just want to fall to my knees and worship him like a god. Most of the time when this happens I find a private place to fantasize and jerk off. Nobody at school knows I’m a fag and I’d like to keep it that way. This time, since the senior was leaving school anyway, I got down on my knees and begged. He laughed, probably thought I was joking, dropped his pants and told me to kiss his ass. Nobody but a faggot would lick out the hairy ass crack of a guy. If coach had seen my face buried in the senior boy’s ass then I might as well start wearing make-up and start acting like a girl. Start wearing dresses and padded bras too, trash all my boxers and jock straps and start wearing thongs. Nobody but a faggot would dare to wear a thong. “He made me kiss his testicles and lick them too, coach. He made me open my mouth for his big penis and he made me suck it.” Coach had a big smile on his face…he wasn’t buying my innocent act. “Did he make you take off your clothes too, Steven? Make you get a hard-on and play with your dick while he used your mouth like a pussy? Did he make you hold still while he ejaculated into your mouth and all over your face? The truth, boy. I want the truth.” I gave him the truth, admitted that I was a cocksucker… what choice did I have. I was naked as a jay, hard as a rock and there was a heavy load of cum all over my face. “Please don’t turn me in, coach. My dad’ll kill me if he finds out I’m a fag.” When coach laughed in my face and told me to get on my knees I knew that everything would be okay. I gave him my all, a fantastic blow job, man what a cock, and my telephone number. “Call me anytime for blow jobs, coach. I’ll be home all summer.” “Who else knows that you’re gay?” Coach asked as he tucked the slip of paper into his wallet. “You’re one fine cocksucker, boy, but I won’t call…spend time with you if the whole school knows you’re queer.” “No one, I swear it. We just moved to Brooklyn last month. That senior boy’s dick was my first since we got here. I’m gay, sure, queer…a faggot cocksucker. I love to suck dick and eat cum, but I’m not a slut, coach. I’m more like a, you know, a personal cocksucker.” My dad’s a colonel in the Army so we’ve moved around a lot. I learned my lesson in New Jersey where every interested boy in my seventh grade class learned all about fags and blow jobs, how to use my cocksucker mouth to get off. I learned that ten boys can’t be trusted to keep a secret. We moved to Washington D.C. the day after one of them broke his promise and the whole school found out that I was queer. For one miserable, humiliating day I was the butt of everyone’s jokes. Girls laughed at me in the hallways, backed away like I had a rare disease. Boys laughed too, called me a faggot to my face and made loud sucking sounds behind my back. The boys I’d sucked off laughed the longest and hardest, not one had the courage to defend me. They stood up in front of my face for blow jobs easily enough, but not one had the kızkalesi escort balls to stand by my side. I got lucky and dodged the bullet in New Jersey, avoided an embarrassing confrontation with my dad. I didn’t make the same mistake in Washington, selecting only one hot boy from the eighth grade and one from the ninth to party in my mouth. They both promised to keep it a secret. I also cruised the downtown adult book stores for after school sessions of anonymous gay sex with strangers when I wanted to suck more dick, eat more cum and get fucked. Black guys mostly with big, uncut cocks. I had a great time in Washington and my reputation stayed intact. I was sorry to leave when we got transferred to New York. CHAPTER TWO Coach lived a short distance from my house on the base near the Verazzano-Narrows bridge. He called me the week after school ended so I cancelled my plans to take the subway to Manhattan and walked to his house instead. I blew him, he fucked me, I blew him again got dressed and went home. I serviced coach three times a week through July and into August. Twice a week I took the subway to Manhattan. Times Square was a disappointment. Central Park, with a cocksucker behind every bush and tree, was fag heaven. My life was perfect, my secret was safe. Coach alone knew I was a fag and he wasn’t about to tell anyone that I was sucking his dick and giving him my pussy ass. I gave up trying to figure out if he was gay, straight or bi. He never sucked my cock or asked me to fuck him, I got plenty of blow jobs and pussy in Central Park, so I stopped thinking about it until he introduced me to Winston Powell, a former student, who was joining the faculty in the fall. “Coach told me all about you, Steven.” I looked at Coach, who nodded and left the room, then back to the young black man who was taking off his shirt. “He did?” “I’ve got nothing against queer boys, Steven.” “Oh, I guess he did.” “In fact, I think every man should have a queer boy handy, a faggot cocksucker who knows how to service a real man’s dick.” “Uh huh.” “You ever suck a black cock, faggot? Swallow a black man’s cum?” I had, in Washington, dozens of black men had been in my mouth and in my ass. It was a racial thing, white boy on his knees…one book store wanted to sell tickets to watch the white fag suck black dick. Another wanted to film me in action. Before I could answer, coach returned with two beers and a coke. “How are you getting along?” He asked. “Fine, fine, our little faggot was about to suck my dick,” Powell replied for both of us. I serviced Coach Ryan and Winston Powell three times a week for the rest of the summer. Never together, though I would have liked a three-way, but on separate days which limited my visits to Central Park. Winston was more demanding than coach, being younger I guess he needed more sex. I got used to the dog collar and leash, the nipple clamps too and accepted the other little humiliations that gave him satisfaction because I loved his cock and my multiple orgasms. He could fuck me for an hour without cumming, then, after plugging my butt with a butt plug, switch to my mouth for another hour or two while he watched TV. Then back to my ass while he read a book or talked on the phone. My cock almost never got soft. My balls pumped out sperm and then I’d cum dry…again and again and again. He hardly ever spoke to me, and when he did it was only to demand things like sucking him deeper and faster or playing with his balls while fucking myself on his cock or licking the sweat from his hairy pits. Winston’s nine inch cock was to big to deep throat, the rest I could and did do. “Don’t you like me,” I finally asked one morning as I climbed into the bathtub for my first and least favorite task of the day. “I like using you, faggot,” he said, opening his robe to expose his morning erection. “But like you, like a faggot? Hmmm, who can really like a queer boy? Maybe another queer. Whatever. Open up cocksucker, I’ve been saving this piss hard-on just for you.” I submitted to all of his demands except the one he made on Labor day. “You’re a cocksucker,” he said after finally climaxing in my mouth after an hour-long blow job. It was hard on my neck, but I’d cum twice with his dick in my mouth. “A pussy tarsus escort boy,” he continued as I guided his stiff cock into my pussy. “The whole world should know that you’re queer. Your classmates at the very least, faggot. You’ll be the class cocksucker so they can all enjoy a blow job and a good cum in your mouth.” “No,” I cried out as he thrust into me. “I don’t want the whole school to know I’m a fag, they’ll all laugh at me. Please, Winston, you promised.” “A promise to a fag, shit. What’s that worth? When you started sucking dick, faggot, how many guys promised not to cum in your mouth?” Two older boys, when I was ten, I remembered. Before discovering how much I liked the creamy taste of warm sperm. One boy kept his promise and unloaded on my face. The other boy, his friend, did me the biggest favor by breaking his promise and cumming in my mouth. Winston Powell was going to out me once school began. I knew it, but I didn’t know how or how to stop him. CHAPTER THREE Coach Ryan got me excused from senior class study hall, to work in his office like last year. Winston Powell shared the office this year and shared me with coach as they had during the summer. All went well the first month of school, then coach took a week off to attend an out of state conference. “You and me this week, faggot,” Winston said on Monday as I put down my backpack and stripped off everything except my sneakers. I had gym next period, so I’d put on my jock strap and gym stuff in the office rather than in the locker room with the other guys. Doing it this way left more time for sex. “Lay back on the desk and spead’em,” Winston said once I was naked. “Show me that boy pussy, faggot, I feel like screwing you this afternoon.” Winston fucked me hard for close to an hour, I came twice with my jock strap stuffed in my mouth to muffle the sounds of my pleasure. Winston climaxed, filled my ass with hot cum just after the five minute bell rang. I barely had time to lick his cock and balls clean, jam in a butt plug to hold in the cum and tug on my damp jock. Tshirt and shorts went on as I hurried along to the gym. Winston felt like a blow job on Tuesday. “Could you cum a little bit sooner today?” I asked as I got down on my knees and brought his cock to my lips. “I was late for gym yesterday and if I’m late one more time Mr. Harvey will flunk me. I won’t be able to graduate.” “Well,” Winston said as I kissed the tip of his cock and fondled his balls, “How fast I cum depends on how good you suck my big, black prick, faggot. Those cocksucker lips in my pubes, your tongue on my nuts…every little bit helps.” I nearly choked trying to tongue Winston’s black balls while sucking his nine inch cock, but I did get him to cum in my mouth before the five minute bell. His wiry, pubic hair was a mess though, matted with my tears, snot and a gooey mixture of sperm and saliva. I got to gym on time with the smell of cum on my breath, crud coating my tongue and, as Tony, a hunky classmate pointed out, a bunch of dark black pubic hairs stuck in my teeth. “Who is she?” Tony whispered as I took my place in line. “Who is who?” I whispered back, surprised that he actually spoke to me. Mostly I get laughed at because I am klutz when it comes to anything athletic. “The girl you went down on, Steven. The girl who’s pubic hairs are stuck in your teeth. Did she go down on you, give you a blow job before or after you ate out her pussy?” Eat out a girl’s pussy, yuch. I’d sooner suck a dog’s dick. “Did you fuck her?” Tony insisted. “C’mon, man, give me the scoop.” “A gentleman never tells,” I said, which pissed him off. “She was good, you should try it,” I foolishly added, which pissed him off even more. Not a good thing to do because I needed all the friends I could get when Winston decided it was time for me to come out of the closet. Tony corralled me alone in the shower after class. I wait until the other guys have finished, all those dicks are far to tempting. That had never happened before and I thought for sure the jig was up, that the freshman I was blowing had broken his promise. What was it with these guys that couldn’t keep their mouths shut when I opened mine for their dicks. Why did they have to ruin a good thing by telling another guy that I was a cocksucker? anamur escort I’d go down on Tony in a heartbeat, suck his cock right here in the shower if that’s what he wanted. We were alone and I even had soap if he wanted to fuck me. That’s not what he wanted at all. “I want to know her name,” Tony demanded. “Any girl that’ll have sex with a wimp like you will spread her legs for a stud like me. Is mine a great looking cock or what?” I took a quick look, though it wasn’t really necessary. All dicks look great to a faggot cocksucker. “She’d love it, Tony, I’m sure. Probably get on her knees and kiss it, maybe lick your balls, then beg you to suck it…” Tony gulped and said. “She swallows?” “…And swallow. She loves to suck dick, loves hot guys like you to cum in her mouth.” Tony was getting a hard-on and I was about ready to get on my knees when Mr. Harvey flicked the lights off and on. “She doesn’t go to school here,” I said to Tony’s fleeing back. He didn’t want to get caught in an embarrassing situation. I knew exactly how he felt. CHAPTER FOUR Wednesday was jock day at school. A silly, senior class tradition that dated back to the time when the school was boys only. Back then it was jock straps only on jock day. Since the school was now co-ed all the seniors are given a long Tshirt to wear over their jocks; supposedly to avoid embarrassing the girls who come to school on jock day. The Tshirt rule is loosely enforced, however, and its often the girls daring the boys to lose the shirts and walk around school in their jocks. I wore a brand new Calvin Klein jock strap on jock day instead of my usual Bike. All the hot guys in jocks, the blue pouch was damp with precum when I got to Winston’s office. Jock day is fun, but frustrating for a fag, and I really needed to suck a dick. “All those boys in jock straps,” Winston said as I took mine off and took him in my mouth. “Got to be tough for a queer, huh Steven?” “Mmmmm, mmmmm,” I mumbled and went right on sucking. He pulled out of my mouth at the warning bell. I looked up, surprised and he unloaded on my face. The warm spurts felt good, but I’d really wanted him to cum in my mouth. Now I had to hurry or I’d be late for gym. “I can’t find my jock, Winston, have you seen it?” My Tshirt was missing too, but I’d worry about that later. “I locked it away,” Winston said, smiling. “Jocks are for jocks, especially on jock day. “This is what you should be wearing, cocksucker.” I took the offered package and tore it open. “It’s a thong, cocksucker, a jockstrap for a fag.” I knew what it was and I knew what it meant. If I wore this to gym, shit, thirty guys would know that I was a fag. “Better hurry and put it on, faggot,” Winston chuckled. “You don’t want to be late for gym.” Maybe they wouldn’t notice, I thought, slipping into the red thong. It looked like a jock strap from the front. “One minute to the late bell, faggot.” I made it just as the late bell rang and carefully keeping my back to the wall, walked to the end of the line. So far so good until Tony asked what was on my face. Cum, shit, Winston’s cum was all over my face. I turned my back to him in a panic, “pussy juice,” I said over my shoulder. “Pussy juice my ass,” Tony said. “That’s fuckin’ cum all over your face and, jesus, what the fuck you got on? That ain’t no jock strap.” Klutz that I am, I’m used to being laughed at in gym. The humiliating waves of laughter that washed over me now was like nothing I had heard before. Mr. Harvey was still in his office so the guys circled around for a good view of my thong. “He’s a fuckin’ faggot,” Tony said above the roar. “A fuckin’ cocksucker.” Cocksucker, cocksucker…the guys took up the chant, cocksucker, cocksucker…until I dropped to my knees and put my face in Tony’s crotch. I used the immediate silence to make a quick deal. Mr. Harvey would tell my dad for sure, the guys probably not if I made it worth their while. “I’ll blow you all if you keep it a secret, okay? Suck everyone’s cock.” EPILOGUE It took me an hour to suck off half the class in the shower after gym. The other half got their blow jobs in the back of a van in the school’s parking lot. With each mouthful of cum I also got a promise of secrecy. Three months after jock day and my secret is still a secret. No one calls me fag or cocksucker in the hallways or laughs, well, not too much when I wear the thong in the locker room. The promise has been renewed by every guy at least weekly…before his blow job and again, after he cums in my mouth. I just might get lucky and graduate without the whole school knowing I’m a fag.

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