Date: Sun, 3 May 1998 13:47:46 -1000
From: John Clark <janc55@hgea.org>
Subject: Jocksucker, ch2

Chapter 2

	"This doesn't have to be like what I wrote, you know."  In his
living room, Dak was suddenly a little shy.  He knew he'd built up his
recent sexual experiences in his mind until they were probably bigger than
life.  He was just a little afraid to go on.  What if he'd imagined how
good it'd been last spring?  What if the kid wasn't as hot for him this
time around.
	He sat on the edge of the sofa, gestured Ion to a seat across from
him.
	"What do you mean?" Ion asked.
	"Oh, you know.  All that about how the guy blew me twice, and then
he just sort of licked around on me and I started shootin' again.  I guess
it seemed like a bigger deal than it really was.  Let's just relax and take
it one step at a time.  No pressure."
	"There is pressure.  I am so happy that you cared to find me.  But
I will not stop myself from telling you what I want.  I want everything
that you gave to that other man.  And I don't really want to wait for it."
	Ion stood, and in a fluid motion knelt before Dak.  As his gaze
locked with Dak's, his hands found the big man's knees.  Slowly, gently, he
massaged Dak's thighs, his hands working up until his left hand gently
grazed the huge bulge throbbing inside the denim.  Ion carefully lifted
both hands to the solid metal belt buckle, only then lowering his eyes to
the task of unlatching the belt.  Finished with the belt, he grasped the
closure with both hands, twisting to open the snap.  Slowly, tantalizingly,
he worked the zipper down.  To his delight, the ballplayer wore no
skivvies.  His loving glance took in the wiry bush and the root of the
quickly expanding brown hose.  Faster now, the boy's hands parted the
jeans, then he reached around to the man's hips to tug down the trousers.
	"Ah, shit!"  Dak jumped up, moving sideways so as not to knock over
the startled youth.  Ripping off his boots, Dak yanked off the tight jeans
and stood, naked from the waste down, his huge black pole rising, pointing
straight out as if to accuse the kneeling boy.
	"I gotta tell you man," Dak said hoarsely, "it's been a long time.
You touch that thing, it's gonna go off!"
	In answer, Ion leaned forward, gently wrapped one hand around the
surging cock.  His tongue flicked out and licked slowly, sensually, up the
piss slit.  A pale fluid began to ooze out.  Ion rubbed the head of the
prick over his face, lost in the sensational smell and taste of the huge
man's pre-cum.
	"Aghhhh! Dak moaned.  "Now, man! I'm gonna cum now!"
	Ion pulled back, gulped a lungful of air, and plunged his mouth
over the throbbing tool just in time for the first blast of lava to burst
against his tongue.  Clamping his mouth around the head of the dick, he
jacked his hands around the shaft and swallowed as burst after burst of cum
flooded his mouth and throat.  He felt Dak's hands gripping his head,
trying to steady it as the lunging prick bucked into his throat.  His jaw
gave at once under the pressure, wrenching out of place, to allow the
ramrod past the cartilage and down, down nearly to his stomach.  Finally,
thrust after thrust drained the big man.  His knees shaking, Dak stepped
back, pulling his softening cock slowly, gingerly out of Ion's throat.
	"Oh, God.  Oh, my sweet God.  That was so fine."
	With a sigh, Dak fell back onto the sofa, legs splayed outward.
Ion sat on the floor leaning his arms along Dak's thighs.  Quietly he
worked his aching jaw back into place. He breathed several times, in
through his mouth, out through his nose, savoring the bitter, oily taste
and smell of Dak's heavy semen.
	Carefully, slowly, Ion sighed and laid his face in Dak's sweating
lap.  The big man caressed the curly dark head beneath him.
	"Thanks, man," Dak said, clearing his throat.  "That was
fantastic!"
	"Remove your shirt and be comfortable," Ion suggested.
	Dak tugged his T-shirt over his head, unaware of Ion's eyes
devouring the sight of the muscular torso as it came into view.  First the
boy saw the washboard abs, then gasped silently as the fabric slid up to
uncover the thumb-sized dark brown nipples, erect and proud crowns on the
rounded slabs of muscle.  He gasped again, this time aloud when the shirt
pulled up to reveal the deep, thickly furred armpits.  Then the shirt was
lifted up, over Dak's head, and the show was over.  Ion forced himself to
show nothing.  His heart did a double beat as he willed himself to
calmness.  He must not let this man know how deeply he felt.  He would
spook easily, this athletic demigod.  Emotions must not be shown.  The boy
knew he could lose this precious contact if he seemed eager.
	"No.  That was not fantastic."  He looked up into the dark brown
face looming over him.
	"That was the release of much pressure.  That it felt good is true,
of course.  But it was too fast.  I am sorry.  I have much to learn.  This,
now, this will be fantastic."

	Still gazing calmly into Dak's eyes, Ion grasped the long brown
penis.  His touch was feather soft as he guided the tool toward his face.
His chiseled lips pursed slightly as he blew a soft stream of warm breath
over the cockhead.  His tongue slipped through his lips to caress the
strong-smelling head of Dak's manhood with a touch as delicate as the
landing of a butterfly.
	The big man sighed.  "That's so fine, Babylamb.  So fuckin' fine."
He shivered, then squirmed to find a more relaxed, comfortable position,
lolling back, muscular legs again splayed out with the boy kneeling between
them.  "Perfect, man."  One hand lightly fondled Ion's head, the other
stroked his own barrel chest, played with his nipples, pinched, and moved
on, fingers playing idly in the trail of hair below his navel.  Gentle
waves of pleasure spread outward from his solar plexus.  A muted adrenalin
flow weaved through his body.  He looked down with perfect contentment at
the youth lapping his dick.  Sure enough, too, the kid was right.  The
hardon was coming.  Slow, no pressure, just feelin' good.  Damn, yeah.
Feelin' so good.
	Dak moved both hands to Ion's head, caressing, rubbing gently,
savoring the soft, woolly feel of the boy.
	Now Ion lifted the shaft.  The tip of his tongue found the spot
where cock met ballsack, and he began to wash the prick thoroughly,
methodically, stroking upwards, making the veins swell as the mighty cock
started its outward journey.  Slowly, this time, like the giant planet
Jupiter wending its ponderous path around the sun, the black tube inched
into erection.  Slowly, but unstoppably the love pole grew, swelled, with
little bucking movements, rising to completion, to its glory and fullness.
	Silently, his face showing nothing, Ion licked, kissed, nipped
gently.  His heart was bursting with adoration for the phallus towering
before him.  In this moment it was his life, his meaning.  He continued to
lick each groove, each indentation, finally moving his worshipping tongue
to the head.  With infinite care, Ion used his fingertips to gently open
the overhanging foreskin.  His avid tongue pushed into the dark cave, not
willing to miss any offering of leftover fluid that might still linger from
the last blast.  Blank-faced, the boy's heart and prick pounded as the
taste again hit his senses.  Blissed, he moaned. And his moan was answered
by a full-throated groan from the dark god above him.
	Ion pulled his head back and watched, intent, as his fingers slowly
rolled back the heavy, purplish foreskin.  He sighed in a moment of pure
worship as he caught sight of the perfect flare of the cockhead.  The shaft
swelled still more, and pushed the head out, free.  The foreskin was pulled
taut to accommodate the continued, unbelievable growth of the pole.
	"Man, you know what you're doin', all right," Dak rumbled.  His
eyes, like Ion's, were fixed on his lengthening prick.  "Never saw that ol'
sucker get so big, so fast.  And it's all yours, Babylamb."
	  Sweat had begun to glisten on his arms and chest as his body
geared itself up to go into reproductive mode again, only minutes after its
last bout.  He felt a churning in his balls, almost a painful tugging as
they fought to draw fluids from hidden reservoirs.
	"Then I will take it now," Ion said.  He bent over the rampant
prick, taking the head into his mouth, stretching, stretching as inch after
inch of the giant penis traveled over his tongue toward his already
battered uvula.  Steeling himself, Ion simultaneously wrenched his jaw out
of range and made a heroic swallowing motion, taking the head of the dick
down into his throat.
	Again pain lanced through the boy's face.  And again, tremendous
joy and pride stiffled the pain.
	Dak reared up, standing, leaning, struggling to find the best, the
most satisfying angle.  His mighty arms supported his torso against the
wall, his legs braced out behind him so that his whole cock could ram in
and out of the boy's mouth, down his throat, almost to his stomach.  He
felt Ion working with him, pursing his lips to form a tight seal around the
pistoning shaft.  Dak thrust all the way in.  He felt the boy's lips buried
deep in his hairy bush.  He had no time or headroom for thought now, only
an incredible rush of pleasure as he long-dicked the willing youth.
	Ion, too, had no time or energy for thought.  The torrential push
and pull of Dak's penis, deep, shallow, deep, shallow, through his mouth
and down his gullet set up a corresponding surge and ebb in his own body.
Now the fat dick massaging his throat felt good, soothing.  As pain and
thought were driven out by the sensation of being so well and truly fucked,
Ion's own cock, hard but still crammed down the leg of his jeans, demanded
to be free.
	Carefully, not looking, not willing to do anything to disturb the
precious equilibrium of the sexual frenzy, Ion felt for his own belt.
Blindly, his fingers unbuckled the belt, pulled down his zipper, and eased
his dick free to spring into the air.
	With one hand, Ion began a cautious frigging on his penis, knowing
that his own end would come as quickly as Dak's had, the first time.  And
he definitely didn't want to cum too soon! With his other hand, he dared to
reach up, to stroke the hairy, corrugated belly heaving above him.
	Dak felt the hand on his stomach, and it seemed to shoot a blaze of
heat through his skin, straight into his solar plexus.  A blast of
adrenalin shot upward through the black man's chest, and at the same time
shot downward, straight into the balls that were slamming on the underside
of Ion's chin.  He bucked harder, deeper into Ion's straining maw, and
	"OH, FUCKIT! OH FUCKIT!!  I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMING I'M CUMMING!!!
	Dak's stabbing, jerking, fuck went on and on in Ion's throat.  He
shot his load in agonizing bursts, grunting out loud with each savage
thrust, until he finally slowed, sated, his last pulsing gob forced down
the raw canal.  He started to pull his now painful cock out of Ion's mouth.
	Now!  Ion thought.  He tightened his grip on his own dick, made two
hard pulls, and his own load shot high into the air as he savored the
feeling of Dak's huge penis sliding out of his mouth, savored the taste,
the smell.
	The smell!  Oh God, he thought.  I've made a mess!  As Dak swayed,
nearly unconscious, back toward his haven on the sofa, Ion hurriedly
stuffed himself back into his pants.  He looked around, found where the
bulk of his semen had landed, and swabbed it up with his handkerchief
before Dak looked up.  Thank God, no carpet.  No mess.  Ion took a long,
ragged breath.  He resumed his facade of unconcerned calm.
	"Oh, man.  Oh, man.  Ion.  Babylamb."  Dak sat up.  He looked at
the boy still sitting on the floor.  "Okay.  You were right.  The first
time was only wonderful.  This was fantastic.  I have not.  Ever.  In.  My.
Life.  Not ever.  Felt anything even close to that good.  And it's gotta
have hurt you like hell."
	"Of course it did not.  What do you mean?"
	"I was pounding you into the floor, man!  What do you mean, what do
I mean?"
	"Your arms were braced against the wall, supporting all of your
weight.  You put none on me."  He gave the other man a long appraising
look.  "And, so?  You are satisfied with the experience so far?" He asked.
	"Satisfied?  Sheeeit!  Yeah, you could say I'm satisfied.  For
about a year.  Whattaya mean, so far?  I'm tapped out, man.  Totally spent.
And then some."
	"Do you remember I told you that I want everything you gave to that
other man?"
	Ion unfolded himself from his cross-legged squat on the floor
before Dak.
	"May I sit by you?"
	"Hell, yes.  Of course.  Please.  Jeeze, I'm a lousy host.  I'm
sorry."
	Ion sat near, but not touching the big man
	"You are sweating heavily.  I believe that licking the sweat from
your body is my next assignment?"  Ion looked up at Dak with an innocent
smile.
	"Oh, hey.  No, man.  You don't have to do that.  Sorry, I know I'm
all groaty."
	Dak reached for his T-shirt and began to wipe down.
	"No!" Ion said.  He grabbed the shirt from Dak's hand.
	"It is for me to do.  You must, please, just relax and let me go to
work.  Perhaps you should spread your arms along the back of the sofa.
Yes.  Like that. Relax.  Watch my progress.  And enjoy it."
	Ion allowed himself a moment of exuberant joy, though it didn't
show in his face or posture.  Yes, he thought.  It will happen just like he
wrote.  I will be able to touch his wonderful body elsewhere than his
penis.  Not only to touch it, but to lick it!  I will taste his sweat.  If
I am never allowed to be with him again, this will give me much happiness
to remember always.  He is so beautiful.
	"Even your calves seem to have perspired.  Good, then.  We shall
start there."
	The boy slid back down to the floor, kneeling again between the
bigger man's legs.  He breathed in the strong aroma of sex sweat, and bent
his head to the huge right calf.  His hands went, one to the ankle, the
other beneath the knee, and lifted the leg.  His tongue flicked out and
caught a bead of moisture as it trickled down the inside of the hard calf
muscle.  He tasted the mild salt tang of the sweat and at the same time his
tongue reported on the rough texture of the leg hairs.  Here the hairs were
sparse but stiff, angling out from the calf like thin wires.
	Savoring both taste and feel, Ion licked here and there, wherever
he found droplets of sweat, until he had performed the service on both legs
up to mid-thigh.  He looked up, then at the sprawling giant.
	Dak was lying back, as instructed, and watching the young man work.
He couldn't argue the fact that it was surprisingly relaxing.  The same
feeling he'd had when the football player had lapped up his sweat was
coming over him, a pleasant lassitude with just a dash of quiet excitement.
Nice.  He wasn't sure, though, how he felt about this kid doing it.  It
seemed like a kind of raunchy scene.  Maybe even on the edge of sleazy.
This kid was too nice to be forcing him to do something like this.  Maybe.
But the guy seemed to be okay with it.  Didn't really look like he minded a
bit.  What the hell.  Like the man said, "Relax and enjoy."
	Seeing Dak gazing back at him, eyes half-lidded, Ion wondered if he
was pleasing his idol.
	"How am I doing?"  He asked.
	"Great."  Dak gave a contented sigh.
	Ion stood, stretched himself, then knelt again, this time tight up
against Dak's crotch.  He leaned forward and licked around Dak's navel.
His tongue darted into the dark hole, twirling in the warm hairiness.  He
felt the rough furrows deep inside the navel, the smooth sides.  He also
felt a stirring beneath his own sweatshirt-covered stomach where Dak's
prick, quiet up 'til now, suddenly gave a little jerk.  Good, he thought.
There is always hope...
	The boy half-stood, now.  He crouched, leaning forward, his hands
resting on Dak's wide spread lats as he approached the magnificent chest.
Where to start, he wondered. He chose to lick the under curve of a giant
pectoral.  How good he smells.  And tastes!  The boy thought.  He ran his
tongue up to caress the out-jutting nipple.  Oh, heaven.  He sucked the tit
into his mouth, grazed it lightly with his teeth.  And felt a shiver in the
body beneath him.
	"This ain't happenin', Babylamb.  Can't be happenin'.  I'm gettin'
a fuckin' hardon again!"  The athlete's words were slurred from excitement,
fatigue, anticipation.  His senses reeled as blood rushed through his head
and through the tiny corridors of erectile tissue throughout his body.
	"Do you want me to stop?"
	"Hell, no!  Keep on keepin' on, baby.  Whoooee!"
	Ion was no longer able to press on with only his tongue.  Now his
head lashed back and forth, his face rolled around, caressing the muscular
torso.  Tasting, smelling, feeling.  His cheeks, enflamed with the
sensitivity of lust told him how the few stiff hairs on Dak's chest felt.
The shell of his ear rubbed teasingly over a hard nipple.  Slowly, surely,
his face moved around to the side until he was breathing in the full scent
of Dak, his face inches below the bristling armpit.
	Dak was breathing heavily now.  Ripples of energy shot through his
body.
	"Do it, baby.  God, yeah.  Do it."  He gasped.

	For a moment Ion paused, his head clearing suddenly.  What am I
doing?  He asked himself.  I am a man.  An athlete.  And my face is so
close to another man's body that all I can see is skin and hair.  I am
choking on the acrid smell of his sweating.  I do not belong here.  For an
instant his mind's eye was far away, above, looking down on the torrid
scene.  He saw a youth, clothed, poised over the hot, naked body of an
enormous, powerfully built black man.  Yes!  he thought, homing again in
the heat and musk of the moment.  I am with Dak!  And he is allowing me
this greatest of intimacies.  This, I want more than anything!
	And rational thought fled, banished by the lusty roaring of blood
in his veins. Ion slowly, deliberately lowered his face into the thicket of
sweat drenched, black hair.  Again and again the boy breathed deeply,
savoring the smell, the scratching of his skin.
	Dak groaned, his belly rippling in a galvanic jolt.  Damn!  It was
happening.  He could feel the liquid beginning to traverse the length of
his still semi-flaccid penis.  Unreal!
	"Babylamb, I think..."
	Frantically Ion shook his head.  Not yet.  Oh, not yet.  His tongue
lunged out of his mouth with a life of its own.  Down it surged, through
the pungent snarls, laving, bathing the armpit, mixing spit and sweat.  His
lips sucked, greedily drinking the salty moisture.
	"NOW!  IT'S HERE NOW!  BABY, TAKE IT BABY. AAAGGHHHHH!!
	Ion jerked back and down to sink to his knees before Dak.
	It was true!  A flow of yellowish-white fluid was draining, pushed
in little jerking spurts from the long, still limp cock.  Quickly tonguing
up the milky pool gathering on Dak's broad thigh, the boy caught up the
dick, taking the head in his mouth once again.  How sweet, this taste, he
thought.  Not so strong as the other times.  More like warm, salty milk.
	Dak's thigh and belly muscles strained as his internal organs bore
down to force out this uncommon load of spunk.  For what seemed like
minutes the flow continued, gradually dwindling to a thin stream.
	Ion knelt, eyes closed, the great, flared head of the prick resting
in his mouth.  He swallowed.  Swallowed.  It seemed like this endless time
was the summation of his life, the reason for all that had gone before.  He
was barely aware of his own orgasm, shot almost unnoticed inside his jeans.
The pleasure that suffused all his senses as he tasted and swallowed,
tasted and swallowed, was sublime.  He was completely connected to his
hero. The precious fluid was binding them into one being.
	For a time Ion continued to swallow after the flow had ceased.  He
felt Dak wriggle in his seat, opened his eyes.  Gently he grasped and
lifted the long, limp penis, letting it pass from his reluctant lips.
Aware, again, of the world around him, Ion was conscious of a tightening of
his skin as the overflow of seminal fluid began to dry on his lips, chin
and cheeks.  He had really reveled in it, he thought.  Quickly he took out
his handkerchief and mopped his face.
	"Thank you," he said, softly.
	"Hey, thank you!" Dak said.  He squirmed.  "Man, that is the
weirdest feeling.  Its like cumming and pissing all at the same time.
Fine.  Really fine.  I didn't really know if it would happen.  I mean, that
other time coulda been a fluke, you know what I mean?"
	Again the big man squirmed around on the damp cushion.
	"Only thing, now it feels like my guts are being pulled out."
	"No!  I have hurt you!"
	"Uh, uh.  No way.  You didn't do anything except be there for me in
the best kind of way.  No more of that 'I'm so sorry' shit, Babylamb.  Far
as I'm concerned, you're my number one man.  Period.  You hear me?"
	Ion's face relaxed into a happy smile.
	"Where does it hurt, then, oh strongman.  How does it feel?
Perhaps I can help."
	"Feels like my abs can't stop jerking."
	His belly was quivering, spasming gently in aftershocks of
tormented passion.
	" But mostly it's, like, down here."  He lifted his steaming
genitals in one hand, gingerly probing with the other in the space between
the base of his scrotum and his anus.  "Yeah, shit. Feels like a sprained
ankle, only up my ass."
	"Massage will help," Ion said.  He leaned forward and slid his hand
under Dak's, shucking it away from the throbbing frenum.  His fingers
lightly played over the area, rhythmically caressing the sore muscles.
	"Ouch," Dak grunted.  But he didn't pull away from the gently
massaging fingers.  "Yeah.  Thanks.  That does feels good."
	The big man sank back, relaxing.  He stretched, eyes closing, a
tired smile building on his lips.  "Thass good baby..."
	Ion heard a soft snort and looked up from his feather-light
handiwork .  He smiled.  Dak had fallen asleep.

	Dak roused himself.  The rhythmic movement that had lulled him into
slumber had changed somehow.  Trying to move as little as he could, he
craned his neck to look down between his widespread legs.  The boy was
holding the cheeks of Dak's ass apart with his hands and was slowly licking
upward from his anus to the base of his ballsack!  The curly head bobbed
back down and restarted its agonizingly slow ascent.
	Dak groaned with pleasure.  The warm, slightly rough drag of the
boy's tongue was soothing and at the same time exciting.  For sure nobody'd
ever done this to Dak's body before!  There was no urgency, no need for the
stallion to rear up and mount the mare.  This was just a sweet, sweet
feeling to lay back and savor.
	Dak straightened one leg, relieving a beginning cramp.  Ion peered
up.  His eyes crinkled in a smile his mouth couldn't form, as his tongue
continued its long, slow route.
	"God, baby," Dak said huskily.  "I already got lover's nuts."
	"Yes, you certainly do," the boy agreed.  He moved upward now,
tonguing at the base of Dak's balls, lapping, swirling around on the goose
eggs in the velvet sac.  A lance of electricity spun up Dak's body,
beginning at his asshole and sending a rush of blood up through his torso,
into his face and scalp.  And into his cock.  The old soldier began jerking
its way to attention.
	Around and around Ion licked on the hairy, squirming nuts.
Suddenly he drew one of the tender globes into his mouth.  He sucked
gently, his tongue still laving the testicle inside his mouth.
	"Oh, SHIT!  GOD OH GOD DON'T STOP!!"  the linebacker choked out.
	  With his hands, the young gymnast began to slowly caress and frig
the giant, ebony pole looming over his head.  And then,
	"I'M CUMMING, BABY I'M CUMMING."
	Dak's body arched out, jerking loose from Ion's mouth.  His gut
spasmed as his pumping phallus stabbed the air.  Ion leaped up to cover the
precious pole with his mouth.  But as he sucked and laved the dickhead, he
felt no discharge.  He pulled back, puzzled.  Dak reached out, grabbed his
own cock and began beating it madly, up and down, up and down.  Still
nothing shot forth, even though his guts told him that he was pushing out a
load of jism.
	Harder and harder the big man frigged his cock, with deep, bullish
grunts of inchoate sound.
	"God, baby," he gasped finally.  "Something's in there but it won't
come out.  Feels like a goddam rock up my prick!"
	Then the piss slit opened wide and a glob came out.  The size of a
thumb head, it was brownish yellow, gelatinous.  It perched on the head of
Dak's cock, not moving, and not followed by anything further, as his inner
spasms abruptly ceased.
	Ion reached out a hand, touched the glob gingerly.  Then without
stopping to think about it, he scooped it up with finger and thumb and
shoved it in his mouth.  His face instantly puckered in a rictus-like
grimace.
	"What?" Dak said.
	"Bitter!"  The boy's mouth writhed, his tongue running over his
teeth, scraping the roof of his mouth.
	"Spit it out!"
	"NO!"  Ion's jaws worked.  He bit into the gob of hardened gel,
tears starting in his eyes.  Chewing, tasting the mass in all its
bitterness and acid tang, and finally swallowing.
	"No.  I could not spit it out.  It was the essence of you."
	As the naked man looked on, bemused, the boy got up and quietly
made his way to the bathroom.  Dak heard the sound of water running, hard.
It didn't completely cover the sound of retching.