Date: Thu, 14 May 1998 19:02:22 -1000
From: John Clark <janc55@hgea.org>
Subject: Jocksucker chapter 5

Chapter 5

	"Shit!  Never fails."  Widdie grabbed up the sweat pants he'd just
shucked off and yanked them back on.  He turned off the shower he'd been
about to step into.  The doorbell rang again, as he loped toward the front
room.
	"Yeah?" he said as he jerked open the door.  His eyes widened when
he saw the young man who stood before him.  The youth definitely had the
body for the muscle-T he wore over levi shorts.  Definitely.  Widdie
smiled.  "Hi, can I help you?"
	"Mr. Widdoes, I'm sorry to bother you."
	"No bother at all.  Come on in."  Widdie motioned the youth ahead
of him into the small living room.  "Sit down, sit down."  Widdie sat
himself on the edge of his daybed, gesturing the other man into the room's
only chair.
	"Mr. Widdoes, my name's Dennis Wu and I..."
	Widdie interrupted him to stretch his long arm toward the other,
offering his hand.
	"Glad to meet you, Mr. Wu."
	Denny tried to keep his gaze directed into Widdie's soft brown
eyes.  He hadn't come here to gawk at the ballplayers long, smooth-muscled
torso, or to spring a rod in front of a campus hero.  Get to business,
dammit.
	"Mr. Widdoes --"
	"Scuse me please for interrupting you, Mr. Wu.  My daddy's still
living, I'm happy to say, so I'd just as soon let him be Mr. Widdoes, if
you'd call me Russ?  Or Widdie - that's what most people call me."  He
smiled at Wu with the sweet openness of a child.  "And now I will surely
shut up and let you speak."
	Wu grinned back at the tall man.  "Okay, uh, Widdie.  If you'll
call me Denny.  I'm here to see if you can help me with a little problem."
	Wu paused, hesitant.  Widdie nodded encouragement.
	"I have a friend.  His name's Ion Tadescu.  He's..."
	"About the finest gymnast in America.  He's for sure putting this
ol' school on the map in that department.  Yeah, I've heard of Mr. Tadescu.
Oops, sorry!  I keep doin' that to you, don't I?"
	You can do anything you want to me, Wu thought.  A flush crept
across his face, at the wayward idea.
	"Well, yeah.  That's the guy.  He's my friend and also my teammate.
And he sorta has a problem with a friend of yours.  Dak Rollins."
	"Dak?  Hey, old Dak wouldn't bother anybody, even if they was
botherin' him.  That ol' boy's a pacifist and a half.  Can't believe your
boy would have any trouble with my boy.  What's the problem?"
	"Oh jeeze, this is where it gets tough.  I gotta just jump into it,
I guess.  Mr. Widdoes..."  Widdie made an exagerated frown.  "Oh, sorry.
Widdie.  Uh, somehow it happened that these two guys ran into each other
in, uh, a place where fellas can, oh, like help each other out, sort of.
You know what I mean?"
	"No."  A little smile began to break on Widdie's lips.  "Unless you
mean like the second floor men's room in the social science building?"
	"Jeeze, you know about that place?"
	"Heard tell.  Go on with the story.  Dak's gettin' it on with Ion
Tadescu?!?"
	"Well, yes.  Sort of.  But only sort of.  That's the problem."
	"Yeah?  What?"
	"Well, I get the impression that it's pretty much one-way.  Way I
hear the story, Ion blows Dak.  And that's it.  The problem is that Ion's
ass over apple-cart in love.  And he thinks that Dak's straight, and just
interested in getting his ashes hauled, or something like that."
	Widdie bent forward.  "Stop.  You're telling me a bad story.  That
isn't the way it is.  I know that isn't the way it is."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Two things.  Dak wouldn't use somebody that way.  I grew up with
the man.  That isn't how he is.  He's a kindly person.  He thinks of
others.  We were raised that way, and it took with him.  It took.  I know
it did.  I've seen him give people things he wanted himself.  Or not go for
something he wanted, so somebody else could have it who he figured needed
it more'n him.  I'm tellin' you, my brother's a giver.  Did you know we
were raised together?  From age five.  I really do know this man.  There
isn't any way he'd be able to go in for just 'gettin' his ashes hauled'
like you said."
	"I was hoping you'd say something like that.  Because what I was
thinking is maybe he's not sure what's going on.  Inside himself, I mean.
Do you think he could be gay?  And not be all the way to realizing it?  I
have to admit, if he's getting it on every damn day for the last three
weeks, it sure seems like more than casual sex."
	"Great sex!"  Widdie jerked upright.
	"Huh?"
	"Just last week he told me something about how his life was pickin'
up - money and great sex.  But he wouldn't tell me any more about the sex
part."  Widdie whooped.  "I congratulated him on getting a honey.  I
thought I meant a chick, but it coulda been a dick.  Whoo, boy.  That's a
good one."  He rocked with laughter.  "Sorry, man.  I get kinda carried
away."
	Widdie laced his hands behind his head, stared off into the room
for a moment as he pondered Wu's questions.  Wu tried not to be caught
staring at the Jordanesque torso on display a few feet away.  I think I'm
starting to get a little case of what's troubling Ion, he thought.  This
guy's a perfect male.
	"Yeah.  Dak might be gay.  Or have the potential to be gay.  His
encounters with women haven't been much good.  Remember I said there were
two reasons I couldn't buy your story?"
	"Yeah?"
	"Couldn't anybody blow Dak Rollins.  See, he's got unusually big
genitals.  Cock and balls.  I'm happy with what I've got, but I don't even
take off my pants in the same room as him.  His thing couldn't fit in
somebody's mouth, period.  And I'm guessin' the few pussies that took it
were hurtin' afterwards.  If they made room for it.  Maybe that's what went
wrong chick-wise.  Maybe they just plain couldn't do the nasty."
	"No, Widdie.  Ion's the most dumbly honest man I've ever met.  He
doesn't know how to lie.  You know your boy, and I believe what you tell me
about him.  But I know mine.  If Ion says he's blowing Dak, he is."
	Widdie shook his head.  "You ain't seen what I've seen, man.  I'm
saying it's impossible.  Only way that dick could go in your mouth would be
if you on purpose dislocated your jaw.  Which, in case you haven't ever
experienced it, hurts like bloody hell and a half."
	"Jesus," Denny murmured.
	"Naw..."  Widdie stared at Denny in disbelief.  "You don't really
think so, do you?"
	"Ion doesn't lie."
	"Jesus," Widdie echoed.
	"Well, I guess we got some idea, now, of how bad Ion's got it, huh?
If he's doing that every day... Oh, shit, Widdie!  He said sometimes they
go twice.  The kid's dying!  No fucking wonder his concentration's off."
	"What do you mean?"
	"I caught him working out today.  Good thing nobody else was
around.  He looked like a klutz.  Have you ever seen him in performance,
Widdie?  It's so goddam beautiful it makes you cry.  But not anymore.  His
whole head's in his heart.  Or his dick, or whatever.  I gotta do
something."  Wu grimaced in frustration and worry.
	Widdie leaned forward and laid his hands on Wu's knees.  "We've
gotta do something."
	Denny smiled, covered Widdie's hands with his own.  "Thanks, man."
	Widdie pulled back, stood, stretched.  "Dunno what, yet, but I'm
meditating on it."
	"Widdie?"  Denny looked up at the standing man, his face gone
sober.
	"Wu?"
	"How do you feel about all this?  I mean, if it turns out your
brother's gay?"
	"I don't give a shit if he's gay or Methodist or a cream cheese
bagel, long's he's happy.  Anyway, I couldn't judge somebody's else's sex
life.  I go both ways myself."
	"You do?!"  Wu gaped in wonder at the long-muscled athlete.
	"Been know to sample the dee-lights.  How about you, young Wu?  You
ever cross the pond?"
	Widdie dropped, in one lithe motion, to sit cross-legged in front
of Wu.  There was no mistaking the interest on his face, or in the slant of
his body, angled toward the boy like a spear.  The tall man looked, but
didn't touch.  Respect for the other man kept his hands bunched around his
own knees.  But he remembered how the other man's body had felt earlier.
His hands wanted to go back to those sinewy thighs, to travel up over the
sculpted gymnast's belly, chest, and shoulders, to caress the knotted arms.
	"No.  No, Widdie."  Wu's voice was low, firm and controlled.  "I've
never mixed pleasure with pleasure.  And I'm pretty surprised to find this
out about a campus Romeo like you."  His stern look bubbled away, replaced
by his ebullient grin.  "But I sure am glad to hear it.  'Cause I'm gay all
the way.  And you are turning me on real much."
	Wu slid off the chair to kneel before the other man.  One hand
reached up to trace the curve of the strong, brown chest.
	"I gotta tell you the truth, man," Widdie said softly.  "I knew who
you were soon's I opened the door."
	"Huh?"
	"I been coming to gymnastic events for almost a year.  Even when
you guys practice, whenever I can sneak in.  That's why I know about your
buddy, Ion."
	"Oh, you had the hots for Ion, too?"
	"No, man.  I was hangin' around before he ever came to this school.
I was lookin' you over."
	"Yeah, right."  Wu laughed.
	"No, man.  I'm not shittin' you.  I saw you on TV last winter.
Camera got a real nice close-up.  First thing that stuck in my mind was
your hair, the way you wear it short, and it sticks up in front."
	Widdie reached out a long, brown hand and slicked back the
up-thrusting black brush over Denny's forehead.  "Yeah, thick and wiry.
An' next, I noticed you had just about the most beautiful skin I ever laid
eyes on.  And ever since you came in here and sat down, I've been fighting
down the urge to yank off your shirt and lick your belly."
	Wu ripped off his shirt.  He quickly bent forward at the waist, his
face nearly in Widdie's crotch.  Putting his hands lightly on Widdie's
sides, the boy raised his head slowly, tantalizingly dragging his crew-cut
forelock up Widdie's stomach.  On up, between the firm pectoral muscles.
Widdie lifted his head, stretched his neck, prolonging the contact.  Wu's
head crested up over Widdie's chin.  He slowed and came to a stop, nose to
nose with the handsome athlete.
	Widdie's arms reached out, went around the shorter man, and pulled
him into a tight embrace.  Their lips met, opened.  Denny felt Widdie's
tongue push demandingly through his parted lips.  He sighed, accepted the
penetration.  Sucked, tasted, savored.  With his own tongue, he stroked the
underside of the sweet invader, then followed it out.  Wu's tongue
fluttered over Widdie's full, soft lips, then dipped into the hot mouth,
and he in turn stabbed deeply into the other man.  Through a long,
breathless time the two men exchanged their spongy, pink gifts, working
their jaws to generate saliva and drinking it greedily.
	Finally Wu broke free, gulped air.
	"God, Widdie!  Oh, God!"
	"Shhh," the black man said.  Now Widdie began moving his mouth over
Denny's face.  His nostrils flared, scenting the other man's skin, it's
oils, the saliva smeared over his chin.  Lightly he kissed first one
eyelid, then the other.  His hands roved freely, cupping the gymnast's
heavy pecs, delving into his armpits, then racing down his back to pull
hungrily in and up on the other man's butt.  Then he pulled back, pulled
away slightly.
	"Baby, we gonna get together," he murmured.  "We can do it any way
you want to, baby."  He peered deep into Wu's eyes.  "You call it."  One
hand, fingers spread to their full width, caressed both of Wu's nipples.
His other hand cupped over the Chinese youth's throbbing groin.
	Wu pulled away, separating from the other man.  His eyes raked the
other from head to foot, not failing to notice the enormous mound that
tented the basketball player's sweat pants.  "Thanks, Widdie," he said,
seriously.  "I appreciate your flexibility.  And I want to do everything
there possibly is for us to do together.  But right now I gotta ask you,
most of the time, regularly, are you a top man or a bottom?  I gotta know
that."
	"Okay.  Top.  I fuck more'n I get fucked.  But you can fuck me,
baby, if you want to."
	A happy smile had spread over Wu's broad features.  "No, Russell
Widdoes.  Thanks, but no thanks.  There isn't anything else in the world
that I want as much as you inside of me.  Farther inside of me than anybody
has ever been.  Erase everybody that's ever been up there.  Make it all
yours.  Except, dammit, I want to drink your cum, too."
	Wu's hands went to his fly, jerked loose the snap and abruptly
pulled down his shorts, pushed and slid them to the floor, and kicked them
away.  He stood proudly before the black man, his eight hard inches of cock
slanting defiantly up toward the ceiling.  Hands on hips, he said "You call
it.  Fuck my ass or fuck my mouth, only for God's sake hurry!"
	"Oh, fuck, baby!  You are so fucking beautiful!"  Widdie lazily
pulled the drawstring of his pants and shucked them down his legs, kicked
them away as Wu had done.
	"This make any difference in your thinkin'? he asked, looking down
at the slender, foot-long dick that was climbing up to jut straight out
from his groin.
	Wu stared at the long rod, then wrenched his gaze away to look into
Widdie's eyes.  "Widdie, I never saw a dick that big.  Sure as hell never
swallowed anything like that.  This'd be a good time to look all shy and
say something like "please be gentle with me - you're so big, and I've
never done anything like this before."
	"Yeah, it probably would," Widdie said.
	"Well, consider it said."  With that Wu dropped to his knees.  He
took the long brown lance in his hands and drew the head to his lips.  He
savored the pungent aroma for a moment, then took the cockhead into his
mouth, laved it with his his tongue, caressed and worked at it with his
lips and cheek muscles.
	"Yeah, baby.  That's so nice," Widdie drawled.
	  Slowly Denny took the length of the shaft into his mouth, until
he felt the spongy head strike the entrance to his throat.  He paused to
drag in a deep breath, then began the process of swallowing that would
allow the hot pole to slide in and down.  The head passed through, and then
the whole length was flowing down, down, deep into his gullet.  He released
his hold on the prick as it disappeared inside of him, and reached instead
to grab Widdie's hips, both to steady himself and to pull himself nearer to
the hard-muscled body.  At last his lips buried themselves in the black
man's pubic hair, and Wu's nose and forehead pressed firmly against the
hairy lower belly.  His chin snuggled tightly against Widdie's brown,
velvet egg sack.  Wu felt triumphant excitement.  He could feel the blood
pulsing through Widdie's dick.  It matched the insistent beat hammering in
his own penis.
	Widdie began a slow retreat.  He pulled his throbbing prick about
half way out of Wu's throat, then pushed gently back in again.  He repeated
this in-and-out several times, then began to speed up as his need
threatened to peak.  More demanding, now, Russ's prong rammed down Denny's
throat.  In and out. In and out.  He felt his climax building.  His nuts
churned with the boiling semen.
	""I'm giving it to you, baby!"  He gasped as his ass muscles
clenched and the first wild spasm pushed his prick clear through Wu's
esophagus, injecting the first gob of cum directly into the boy's stomach.
Then, suddenly he was withdrawing, pulling all the way out, until only the
erupting head was left in Wu's mouth.
	"Take it, honey," he gasped.  He jerked his dick with his hand,
milking out the sweet stream of semen into the boy's overflowing mouth.
	Wu tasted the acrid fluid, swallowing the load as quickly as he
could down his aching throat.  Sucking, swallowing, he eagerly devoured
Widdie's cum. He reached down to give a couple of quick jerks on his sorely
distended prong, immediately triggering his own orgasm.  Widdie's cum
coursed down his throat, overflowing, gushing out around the black dick.
His own cum flew wildly out over the floor.
	Both men collapsed back to sit facing each other, leaning back on
their arms and panting.  Widdie repositioned himself, leaning back against
the frame of the daybed.  He looked down.  "Good thing I ain't got a carpet
in here," he said, pointing at a big blob of Wu's semen on the floor.  As
Denny watched, Russ scooped up the gelatinous gob.  Gazing levelly into
Denny's eyes, Russ smiled.  He brought his hand to his face, smelled deeply
of the pearly substance, then opened his mouth and sucked the love juice
from his fingers, his eyes never leaving Denny's.  He held the hand out to
Denny.  Denny, his gaze still trapped in Russ's enormous brown eyes, took
the hand in his own, lifted it to his mouth and took the central finger in
between his lips.  Slowly, seductively, he went down on Widdie's finger.
He pulled back, went down again, again, again, slowly, agonizingly slowly.
	"Aw, shit, Gingerman.  Now look what you done."  Wu's eyes followed
Widdie's down to the black man's crotch.  The amazing dick was slowly
engorging again, crawling outward along the long-muscled thigh, and
starting to lift off the leg in little jerking motions, then falling back
only to jerk again, a little longer and fuller each time.
	Wu stretched forward until his mouth met Widdie's.  They kissed
long, deeply, leisurely.
	"Russ, thank you."  Wu said.  "I wanted to have you that way, real
bad.  Now, since your big, bad cock is up and waving his fist in the air,
you're gonna get it the way you deserve to get it.  Let me show you how
gymnasts do it!"  He laughed his infectious laugh, and straddled Widdie's
lap.  His thighs bulged with the weight of his body, as he reached under
himself to grasp Russ's dick and hold it upright.  It was still slick from
his saliva and Widdie's cum.  Carefully positioning the head, Wu settled
his anus down over the shaft, wriggling until it entered him.
	"God!" Widdie gasped.  "So fuckin' tight! An' you're burnin' up
inside, man.  Hotter'n hell on my cock.  Oh, man.  Good.  Baby, that's so
good."
	To Wu, it felt like the fire was coming from the lance slipping
inexorably up his ass.  He groaned as he sank further down onto the turgid
shaft.
	"Baby, you okay?"
	Panting, Wu gasped and jerked his head in a quick nod.  He caught
his lower lip between his teeth and released the weight on one leg,
stretching it out to the side.  His hands supporting part of his weight on
Widdie's shoulders, he carefully worked the other leg free, extending it
far out to the other side.  He was now doing a split on Widdie's cock, and
his full weight was dragging him abruptly downward.  Wu cried out as he
felt something give in his guts, but then he continued to descend.  There
was no further obstruction.  At last he came to rest, Widdie's whole, hard
length crammed up his horribly distended colon.
	Wu sighed, shuddered.  "Now you're fucking me, man."
	Because he'd begun his squat facing Widdie, they were now spiked
together with Denny's face level with the taller man's torso.  He turned
his head, laid his cheek on Widdie's wide, brown chest.  For a moment he
was inert, utterly worn out from his exertion.  "I'm sorry, Russ.  I
thought I could do this, but I guess you're a whole lot bigger than I
realized.  You think we could get us up on this sofa thing without coming
unstuck?"
	Widdie snaked a long arm around Wu's back, firmly plastering their
bodies together.  "Pull your legs in close, baby," he murmured.  He tucked
his other arm down around Wu's butt and lifted, stood, carrying his impaled
lover and laying him on his back on the daybed - all the while staying
almost completely lodged within the warm chute.  Widdie lifted Wu's ankles
and laid them on his own shoulders.  Then, looming over the supine gymnast,
he began to fuck, gently, slowly.
	"Are you okay, Gingerman, honey?"  The tall man asked.
	"Do it, stud!  Just do it.  Fuck me.  Now.  Please!"
	Widdie leaned far forward and kissed Wu, tenderly, gently.  And
continued the in and out thrusting of his pelvis, long-dicking the flushed,
groaning youth.
	Both men knew this wasn't just a fuck.