Date: Mon, 13 May 2002 10:11:11 -0500 From: grad dick <grad_dick@hotmail.com> Subject: Team Spirit Your consideration and comments are appreciated. Thanks... ------------------- The usual disclaimers apply: If you are under the age of 18, or reading such material is illegal in your jurisdiction, or you find such material offensive, then please do not read this story. Comments are appreciated at: grad_dick@hotmail.com Team Spirit... When I was 18, I graduated from a Chicago high school, and decided to go to Marquette University in Milwaukee for my undergraduate studies. I had already known I was gay since 7th grade, and was excited to take an adventure as a young, horny adult in another city. I found Marquette to be a nice school, although very conservative. As my studies went on, and I found the company of the few other gays on campus, I began receiving a very disturbing round of very upsetting phone calls. They would generally come at night, and I would find my answering machine blinking when I arrived home from the club, sometimes with over 20 messages. Some were hang-ups, some were asshole jocks taunting me with names like fag and buttfucker. Their messages were full of profanity, and I have to admit, often turned me on. It made me question what was wrong with me, I was never closeted, everyone knew I was gay, but I wasn't a fag. I didn't go around limp-wristed, or speak with a lisp, instead I played sports, was on the swim team, worked out, and for the most part hung around a masculine bunch of guys, some gay, some not. After my freshman year, and a great summer break back home, I returned for my second year at Marquette. My answering machine was no busier than a social gay man's should be, and I thought that I lucked out and the harassing calls had stopped. But about halfway into the term, they started up again, more frequent than ever. This time I tried to pick up the phone whenever I got a chance, swearing back at them, telling those at the other end to 'fuck off'. Sometimes the boys would surprise me, once they got me on the phone in person and we would have a phone sex jack off. There were a few guys that started up right after me saying 'fuck you', their predictable response was of course something like, 'Yeah, you wish," and it would go from there... I'd talk about what I wanted to do to their cocks, their mouths and there hot asses, and they'd jack on the other end of the phone. We sort of had a game going. After a couple of weeks of this a friend of mine said he knew who was calling me all the time. It seems that a number of the basketball team members were part of a jock-like pact to drive me nuts that semester. Only thing was, it was obvious, some of them were playing for my team. Right then and there, I decided to start going to more basketball games... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ So, I am at the game, right. Trying to make eye contact as they play. Oh yeah, that really worked well. The only time I could get a lock on any of them, was when they were on the bench. There were two guys, one from my dorm, that I decided I would try to 'run into' off the court. The first guy, Chris, would eat meals in the same cafeteria I did, at around the same time. He was a basketball player, so he was tall, around 6'4", blond, thin but muscular, with a hairy chest and arms and was an all around big hunk of guy. He had this cute smirk, and always seemed to speak out of the side of his mouth. He was a real brat-boy. In the morning, everyone would come down from their rooms for breakfast in various states of dress, street clothes, robes, shorts, sleepwear, whatever, it was not about impressing people - it was about food. For a few meals in a row, I sat right across from Chris, albeit about four tables over with my friends, positioning my line of sight with his crotch. After glancing up and seeing him staring at me a number of times, I think I hit it dead on, he was one of my jock night callers. I decided to continue my subtle stalking. The next morning's breakfast blew my mind. I got to the cafeteria first and, when I was nearly finished, in walked Chris, sitting down at a table in front of me - where I could see his big bulge in his jersey shorts. He seemed to be wise to the game, too. So, to prolong my breakfast, I went and got another glass of juice and sat down to 'study' some of my notes before class. The caf. started to empty out, people took off for classes. We were alone except for a few others at the other end of the dining hall. When I looked up I couldn't believe it, Chris's dick was hanging out of the inside leg of his shorts fully exposed and semi hard. It was about 7 inches and not even fully hard yet. It went nearly to the end of the chair, and the head was as big as a plum, and just as purple. Now I knew it was time to pursue this. My dick got rock hard instantly! I pulled at my crotch as I read. I was wearing jeans so at least I wouldn't fall out. When I pulled, he pulled. He was matching my jacks and right in the public area of our cafeteria! Now his cock was fully hard and I couldn't take the build-up anymore, I decided to take off for the elevator to get my stuff for class. It was all too public and creeping me out, but exciting me at the same time. Just as I stepped into the elevator, the door was caught by Chris, who had strategically placed a book in front of his raging rod so he could get to the elevator unnoticed. I smiled and the door closed... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pushing my floor number, I asked where he wanted to go, he replied by saying, "right here", and grabbed my knob, pinning me to the wall with his crotch. Grinding his length into me, I thought I would cum right there. We arrived at my floor and separated when the door opened, I went to leave but he grabbed my arm and said, "he knew a place." We let the door close and he pushed 19, which was the roof of our dorm. I'd never been up there, and wasn't even sure you could get on the roof from the elevator, but he said he knew where to go. We continued to dry hump against each other in the elevator all the way up to 19. When the doors opened there was no one in sight, and the first thing you saw was a sort of maintenance level, air handlers, HVAC stuff like that, we fell into the room and jumped on top of each other like attack dogs, ripping through his jersey shorts, I stuffed his big cock down my throat. He fucked my face in quick jerks, jabbing in and out, his ripped abdominal muscles crunching with each thrust. Sweat seemed to be leaking off him, lubricating our bodies in the totally hot industrial setting. Then he surprised me yet again, he slumped to his knees and starting chewing on my joint, he kept grunting and grabbed my hand and jammed it towards his ass. It seems he liked a good work over, and once up his hot hole, my finger had a hot throbbing glove contracting feverishly. Ready for a bigger cork than my now lubricated finger, I wanted to feel his hole around my cock. He swung around and stuck his ass in the air, I slide in with no problem and with a yelp, we were off. He bucked into me with such force we knocked over a trashcan and stepladder with our shuffling. I came in leaky gobs on his back, he shot in his hand, quivering from muscle exhaustion and overexertion. We ended out romp in a pile on the greasy floor, dripping with sweat and sticky with each others loads. It was a great afternoon, and I still made it to class on time. Next time... what happens when he tells two of his team members about our morning, jock fuck... ---- Let me know what you think at grad_dick@hotmail.com