Date: Sun, 3 Oct 2004 21:46:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Master Terra D <masterterradil@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trick and Treating the Quarterback, part 2

Disclaimer: If you don't know you're on a gay, erotic
website, then leave now and don't read this story. If
you're underage, leave. If you're clueless, then it
won't matter what I type.

	Paul jumped in his dad's pickup truck and started the
route.
	The star quarterback was dressed as Tarzan, wearing
nothing more than a loincloth his coach provided, and
a cock cage his coach had him wear to keep his cock in
check.
	Paul was 6'3" tall, a trim but muscled build, black
hair, blue eyes, with handsome boy-next-door looks. He
shaved his body except for his arm pits and a triangle
of pubic hair.
	Every year the football team dressed up and went out
Trick-or-Treating to raise funds for the football
program and other athletic events.
	Paul had a country route this year. He'd usually done
in-town routes, but the coach gave him a new route
this year. Coach had also horned him up before sending
him out on the road.
 	The truck bounced down a country lane that lead to
the first name on the list: Jacob Struthers.
 	Mr. Struthers was a huge athletic supporter. He
donated lots of money every year, and was at every
game. He's played football when he was in school, and
Paul knew the man kept in shape.
 	Paul thought about Mr. Struthers. He was probably in
his late 40s, same height Paul was, but much beefier,
like a burly body-builder. He was blonde, green-eyed
and Paul seemed to remember Mr. Struthers was a widow
or divorced; he couldn't remember.
	The team had been out to the farm a few times,
bucking bales, then taking a dip in a pool out back.
Some team members had told Paul the man had a full gym
in his basement, but Paul'd never been there.
	Paul parked the truck in the drive, and knocked on
the side door at the kitchen; that's where the light
was lit.
	"Hey, Paul!" Mr. Struthers greeted Paul warmly,
patting Paul's bare shoulder with a big hand. "Come in
and let me get the donation."
	Paul stepped into the kitchen. It looked like what he
thought a farm kitchen would look like, although he'd
never been in the house. Mr. Struthers had walked into
a dark room, and he called to Paul, "hey bud, can you
come in here?"
	A light went on in that room. Paul walked into the
living room.
	"Nice costume. You Tarzan this year, son?" Mr.
Struthers asked.
	Paul said "yes", but his eyes locked on the bulge in
Mr. Struthers sweat pants. The burly farmer had a hand
holding out an envelop, but Paul didn't notice. Mr.
Struthers set the envelop aside and walked right up to
Paul, putting his right arm around Paul's left side,
and cupping the boy's left ass cheek.
	"Coach Simons told me you'd be into this," the blonde
farmer purred, opening his mouth and wrapping it
around Paul's mouth and chin. Paul felt incredibly
small as the burly farmer swallowed half of Paul's
face. He felt a finger scrape across his asshole.
 	"Yes, sir," Paul said.
	Mr. Struthers led Paul to the floor, on top of a
bearskin rug.
	The fur felt great to Paul as he lay on the rug,
coming face to cock with Mr. Struther's dick. The
farmer had slid his sweats down and freed his 6-inch
fireplug. It was thick. Paul'd never seen such a cock.
He couldn't tell if it was the size of a soda can or
not, but it was close!
 	It was drooling precum which Paul started lapping up
like a dog without being invited.
 	Mr. Struthers grinned and started lapping spit on
Paul's shitter. He pushed a finger around the pucker
as he licked and drooled on to Paul's hole. The boy
was moaning loudly around the can-thick dick; the star
quarterback could stretch his mouth and deep-throat
cock.
	"Want some cum, son?" Mr. Struthers asked.
 	"Yes, sir," Paul said, but was a bit disappointed
the burly farmer was going to shoot so soon.
 	The farmer started shooting, and Paul sucked it down
his quarterback throat, squeezing his sphincter
tighter on the finger Mr. Struthers had worked up his
ass.
	Mr. Struthers didn't stop fingering Paul after he
shot; the farmer prodded Paul's prostate, making the
boy buck up on the finger.
	"Like that finger up there, son?" Mr. Struthers
asked.
	"Yes, sir," the football player panted.
	The burly man moved Paul onto his back and slipped a
second finger up the quarterback's butt in one move,
then straddled his hairy ass over the boy's face.
	The farmer started alternating fingers in and out of
Paul's pucker, piston-finger fucking the boy.
	"Eat my ass, son," Mr. Struthers said.
	Paul's ass was in ecstasy. The command triggered an
instant response in Paul, who slipped his tongue in
the hairy crevice before him. He lapped at it like a
dog. After a minute, his mind processed what he was
doing, and he had a question: why hadn't he done this
before?
	Paul's hand reached up and wrapped around the
athletic supporter's thighs, pulling the burly man's
ass closer to Paul's face as he ate.
	Mr. Struthers smiled. "As planned," he thought, still
pumping fingers alternately in Paul's quarterback
shitter. The farmer could see the boy's dick straining
against the cock cage.
 	The ag master pulled his fingers from Paul's ass and
stood, offering the boy the fingers that were up his
ass. Paul jumped on them, cleaning his ass from the
fingers. Mr. Struthers patted him on the head, and
said, "Good, boy."
	Paul glanced to the side and froze. There was a large
mirror, and he saw himself in the reflection, on all
4s, licking 2 fingers clean.
	Mr. Struthers broke him from the scene.
	"Stand up, son. You have more donations to collect,"
the farmer said.
	Paul stood, kind of stunned.
	Mr. Struthers showed him to the door, and shoved the
envelop with his donation in the back of Paul's
costume.
 	"Have a good night, son. See ya soon."
	The door closed and the lights went out.
	Paul climbed in his truck and the dash radio showed
he was running short on time.
	His dick hurt, and precum was dripping from it.
	The next house wasn't that far. Paul grabbed a rag,
and wiped his cock off as he drove.
	Mrs. Harper gave Paul a big donation, commenting on
his costume until Paul turned shades of red and
purple. As he turned to leave, she patted his ass and
said to come again next year.
	Paul got back in the truck and did 2 more houses,
again getting comments, and large donations.
	Paul was puzzled when the next house was dark.
Everyone on the list was waiting for him. He tried the
door and it was unlocked, so he opened it and shouted,
"Anyone here?"
	"Can I help you?" a voice behind him asked.
	Paul nearly jumped out of his loincloth.
	"Hi, I'm Paul, from the football team? I'm collecting
the yearly donation," he said, turning as he talked.
	He was face to face with a policeman he thought he
recognized.
	"Gladys had a heart attack," the uniformed man said.
"You missed the excitement by about 15 minutes."
	Paul looked the officer over, head to toe.
	He was hot! Paul's height and build, jet black hair,
huge chest, and Paul spied tufts of hair coming out
the top of the shirt.
	"I'll just move on to the next house officer," Paul
said.
	"Do you have any identification, son?" the officer
asked.
	"Son?" Paul thought. "He's not that much older than
me."
	"In my truck," he said, starting to head in that
direction.
	The officer followed, looked over Paul's wallet, and
the list of houses the coach gave Paul at the
beginning of the evening.
	"That's not much of a costume," the officer said.
Paul guessed the officer was around 25  years old, and
Paul was sure he knew him.
	"The tunic didn't come in," Paul said. "Who are you?
You look familiar."
	"Thomas Skincaid, bud. I graduated the last year our
school went to state," the officer said. "You've
probably seen my face in the halls."
	He paused a minute, then added, "I see you've been to
Mr. Struthers. Get a big one?"
	"Uh, yeah," Paul said. He was a bit uncomfortable,
suddenly.
	Thomas reached out and placed a big, beefy paw on
Paul's left shoulder. Paul saw hair growing on the
back of the hand.
	"Turn around and put your hands on the hood, legs
apart," Thomas commanded.
	"What? Come on, what could I be hiding?" Paul asked.
	Thomas spun the quarterback around and knocked his
legs apart, and shoved him into a bent over position.
	"I'm going to frisk you. Shut up," Thomas barked.
	Thomas spit, then Paul felt a finger working its way
up his ass.
	"I had this route when I was in school, but Mr.
Struthers' was usually last," Thomas said, fingering
Paul. Paul heard a zipper, another spit, and felt
Thomas' tool at his ass.
	"I always wanted to fuck a quarterback," Thomas said.
	Paul's mind popped. Thomas wasn't exactly on the
team; he was the fucking waterboy when he was in
school!
	Thomas roughly fucked Paul, bending him over the warm
truck hood, twisting his nipples, and occasionally
licking Paul's back neck.
	Thomas grunted, unloaded, pulled out and spun Paul
around.
	"Looks like I'll see you later tonight, boy," Thomas
said, shoving the house list back in Paul's hand.
	Paul just stood there as the officer left. "What did
that mean?" he thought. "He can't come to the house;
I'm not home alone."
	Paul glanced at the list and jumped in his truck.
	When he had 3 houses left, Paul sighed a bit. He was
back on schedule, and had received some incredible
donations. Lots of farm wives were home alone and had
"tipped" Paul some extra.
	One tried to coax him inside, but he begged off.
Another answered the door with rope, and Paul hurried
through the donation pitch as incredible speed.
	Paul pulled into the next drive, and knocked on the
door.
	He didn't recognize the name at all. Stan Cavale.
"Who was that?" Paul thought.
	"Trick or treat!" Stan exclaimed when he opened the
door.
	"Hi, I'm Paul^Å"
	"Yeah, I know who you are, son," Stan said. "Come
in."
	"I can't, sir. I have 2 more houses to go."
	"Coach said you have time. Come in," Stan said,
suddenly gruff, sounding a little put off by Paul's
comment. "You want the donation, son?"
	Paul walked inside.
	A man was lying naked on the floor, with a huge
double headed dildo sticking out of his ass.
	"The boy finally here?" the naked man asked, without
looking up.
	"Yeah," Stan said. "Primed and ready."

	To be continued.

	Yes, there will be more chapters. The idea is to
finish this up by Halloween.
	I appreciate all the comments and feedback.