Date: Wed, 26 Jan 2000 02:09:47 EST
From: CoachinDC@aol.com
Subject: My Setter

	I don't know if you've heard about gay sports tournaments or if
you've ever played in one, but believe me, going to a new city and being
surrounded by hundreds of jocks all out to impress each other with their
athleticism and their looks is enough to get anyone's blood pumping.
Usually, you're greeted at registration with tournament brackets, maps, bar
coupons, and condoms, because organizers understand that this is an
opportunity for some serious athletic activities off the courts as well as
on.
	The biggest gay indoor volleyball tournament of the year is in New
York: 70 or more teams from across the continent (and a few from Europe)
come to play, and it's worth the travel expenses just to watch some of them
walk on and off the court.  It's a schmorgesbord of men: beach bums with
smooth, tan bodies; All-American boys from next door; rugged, stocky,
unshaven jocks ready to get dirty; preps, twinkies, daddies, you name it.
And in my very first New York tournament, I had the opportunity to do more
than just watch.
	I was in the quarter finals, and my team was having a tough time
with a squad from Chicago. These guys hit with some serious heat, and their
setter (the guy who passes the ball to the spikers) had the softest,
sweetest hands I'd ever seen.  It seemed like no matter how poor the pass
to him was, he would be able to just float it perfectly to his hitter.  The
guy was poetry in motion.  He also was an absolute knockout.
	The shortest guy on their team, he had trim hair and tantalizingly
friendly green eyes which always seemed to be winking. His smile showed off
his perfect white teeth, and his chin was dimpled but strong.  He had more
of a soccer build with wide shoulders, a solid chest, and a trim waist.
His gorgeous, hairy legs were strong from all the jumping and crouching he
did as a setter, and that butt of his, as I watched it move around inside
his black nylon shorts, was mouthwateringly perfect.
	Although we were outskilled, our team was hanging in there purely
on hustle: diving for balls, blocking their hits as much as possible, and
moving our defense to confuse them.  Every time it looked like we were
about to catch up, though, my little friend on the other side would make a
spectacular play and set up his team to take control.  One time, when I was
up at net, he made a gorgeous set from his knees for his teammate to kill.
He stayed on his knees for a little while and our eyes met.  We both smiled
at each other, and I said, "Nice set, guy" as nonchalantly as possible,
trying to be a good sport but trying not to give away how impressed I was,
both with his play and his hot looks.
	"I do some of my best work in this position," he said smiling
before getting up onto his feet.  "And my name's Jim."  He was obviously
toying with my mind.  He had to know how hunky he was, but even though I
knew he was just using his secret weapon on me, it worked.  I kept watching
him when I should have been focusing on defense, and every couple of points
he'd turn my way and flash that gorgeous smile.  My heart melted each time.
	After they won the match, I shook his hand firmly and grinned.
"Nice match, Jim.  If you distract the next team the way you did ours,
you've got this tournament in the bag."
	Jim looked a bit confused. "What?"
	I just answered, "Nothing.  Good luck.  I'm off to the showers,"
and walked away. I knew he heard what I had said, and I knew he wasn't that
naive.  I just hoped I hadn't ruined my chances by being too forward
with the line about the shower .
	I hadn't.  I barely had time to take off my sneakers before I saw
Jim leaning against the inside of the doorway. "Now it's your turn to
distract me," he said with a glimmer of that smile pulling up the corners
of his lips and eyes.
	I pulled my shirt over my head, revealing the results of my years
spent in the gym.  The hair that stretched from the middle of my chest down
my stomach and into my shorts was matted down with sweat, and I rubbed and
scratched my washboard stomach, turning slightly to my side so he would
have the best view. "Very nice," Jim said as his eyes stayed glued to my
abs. "Please, continue."
	With that encouragement, I shrugged, smiled, turned my back to him,
and slid my shorts down my legs, exposing by ass framed in my sweaty jock
strap.  I reached behind me and lifted the straps to realign them more
evenly around my cheeks and snapped them back into place.  I glanced at his
image in the mirror, and he was showing off that gorgeous smile as his hand
wandered unconsciously toward his crotch.
	With my back still to him, I slid my jock strap off and tossed it
on the ground.  As I scratched my crotch and pubes, trying to lift the hair
that had been matted down from a day's worth of sweating inside that jock,
I heard his light footsteps approach.  I expected to feel his warm hands on
some part of my body, but he stopped a few steps before me.  I turned, only
to see him holding my jock strap.  As he stared right into my eyes, he
lifted that old, wet cotton to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply.
	I watched as his crotch swelled, his eyes closed, and his smile
grew.  This guy was suffocating on his newly found drug, and he was in
euphoria.  I knew then how I wanted to play this one.  I just needed to
test out the waters a bit more.
	I stepped up to him until I was looking a bit down at him.  "You
like that, don't you?"  When I saw him nod and relax just a bit, I snapped
out my hand and snatched the jock from his grip.  In that first instant,
his face looked like I had just taken this little boy's favorite toy.
Before he could say anything, I grabbed my cock firmly in one hand, making
the mostly-soft head swell just a bit, and I held the back of his neck by
the hand that held my jock.  "Suck it, and you'll have your toy back."
	With a barely noticeable hesitation, he lowered himself to his
knees and took my whole, sesmi-soft cock in my mouth.  As I got thicker and
more erect, he had to start getting creative, because he was having a tough
time getting the whole thing in at once.  He licked at the pungent
underside, where cock met balls.  Then his tongue traveled down and he
swallowed each ball and played with them with his lips and tongue.
	"I said suck it," I barked as I grabbed the back of his neck,
pulled him off my balls, and planted his mouth right over my shaft.  He'd
learn how to take all of it.  I bucked my hips forward without letting his
neck move an inch, and I felt the head of my cock squeezing down his
throat.  I held him there for about five seconds, until he gagged, feeling
his survival instinct to inhale denied.  When his face pulled off my meat,
I shoved my jock strap in his face.  His face melted as he drank in the
odor of my crotch sweat.  At the peak of his inhale, I pulled away the jock
and planted my meat down his throat again.  This time, when he gagged, I
kept my cock impaled down his throat for another second or two to let him
know that he'd better learn how to handle my dick.
	After about three more times of alternating cock and jock, his
throat loosened up a whole lot, and I was able to fuck the hell out of his
throat.  His eyes stayed shut, squinting, but I could tell from the moans
that he was getting into it.  He'd passed that phase, but I had one last
part of the test to go.
	I pulled him to his feet, holding him by the underside of his chin
and the scruff of his neck, and brought his face to mine.  As I kissed him,
I slid my hands down his solid arms until I reached his wrists.  Then, I
held his forearms firmly, my fingers pressing into his flesh a bit more
than necessary, and pushed his arms against the middle of his back.
	The tighter I held them there, the more he moaned, and I felt his
hard cock pressing against my thigh.  This was going to be good.
	"Let's go," I said as I walked ahead of him down to the back of the
locker room.  There was a door that said it was for employees only, but it
was a Sunday so I figured no one would be bothering us there.  It turned
out to be a storage room with a desk, metal shelves and some old, uncovered
piping.
	He walked through the door after me, and I immediately shoved the
pig's head back down to my crotch.  This time, he needed no guidance; my
cockhead was down his hungry throat in no time.  His head bobbed again and
again as I watched my thick tool disappear into his face.  "Look at me when
you suck cock," I demanded, and instantly I could those gorgeous eyes
staring into mine, his face pumping in and out.  I felt the tight pressure
as my cockhead surged in and out of his throat and my balls were striking
him firmly on the chin with every thrust.
	He was very talented, but I wasn't going to let myself cum this
way.  I'd have his hot ass before this session was through.  I pulled his
face off my cock and told him to stand and turn around.  I pulled down his
shorts and took off his socks, keeping the socks in my hand.
	"Bend over and play with that ass," I commanded.  He reached back,
bent his knees slightly, and pulled apart those sweet ass cheeks, and his
pink pucker was looking right at me.  He turned his head to see if I liked
what I saw.
	"Keep your eyes front, boy, and keep playing with it."
	He immediately turned away from me, placed a finger in his mouth,
and stuck it right up his ass.  As I was getting hot and bothered watching
his little show, I began tying his two socks together and then separately I
tied my two socks together.  When I'd finished that, I walked up behind him
and grabbed his wrists.
	"We're gonna play a little game now, boy," I said as I wrapped my
two socks in a figure eight pattern around his wrists, fastening his hands
behind his back.  I pulled the knot tight.  "On your knees, and keep those
eyes front."
	I knelt behind him, my hairy chest against his back, and pressed my
jock up against his face.  His cock immediately began to bob and dance in
front of him.  As I rubbed the jock more and more firmly against his face,
I began poking it into his mouth.  His jaw opened up, and I got as much as
could fit in there, pressing it with the heel of my palm.
	"You like that, boy?  You like tasting the sweat off my nuts?"
	All he could do was nod and moan hard.  Then I wrapped his two
socks around his head and tied them from behind.  His muzzle of man sweat
was secure, and he was all mine.
	I spit on my hand and coated my thick tool with saliva. My right
hand pushed this pig's head down against his forearms as my left hand,
gripping the base of my cock tight, guided my fuck pole right up his chute.
With two inches of my meat to go, he whimpered a bit.  When I shoved the
last of it ruthlessly up his hole, the gagged scream that probably meant
slow down only encouraged me.  He had gotten used to my cock down his
throat pretty fast; he'd learn to love getting pounded the other way even
more.  He just didn't know yet how much he'd love it.
	At this point, he wasn't a person, but a piece of meat for my
pleasure, and I fucked him brutally, watching my thick shaft piston in and
out of his hole. I stopped briefly and pushed his chest lower into the
ground to get a better angle, to get deeper.  When I started pummeling his
hole again, my hand pressing the middle of his back, the muffled yelps
increased in volume and tempo.  I watched the sinewy muscles in his arms
stand out as he strained against the sock bondage, but that just encouraged
me to work harder.  He'd be free when I was good and ready.
	I pulled out of his ass quickly and watched as his hole breathed
and took its time closing up. Then I shoved the whole cock right down the
tunnel, watching his back arch and his head spasm backwards.  Slowly out.
Quickly in. Arch & spasm. Slowly out.  Quickly in. Arch & spasm.
	After the last time I pulled out, I waited for a moment and watched
his body hungrily anticipating my next attack on his butt.  Instead, I
wrapped my right arm around his waist and lifted his kneeling body to a
standing position.  His cock was rock hard, but I didn't care.  Not yet.  I
bent him over the desk.  "Shove your ass in the air, pig," was all he
needed before his legs were straining on tip-toed feet to show me that
gorgeous ass, its gateway no longer completely closed.  There was a
beautiful "O" of pitch black surrounded by the maroon of his ass lips, and
that "O" was begging to be filled.
	I grabbed him by the hips and slapped my cockhead against his
puckering chute.  The mushroom-head of my cock tugged at the tender skin of
his asshole, pulling the "O" this way and that, but I refused to go in.
His moans, once of pain but now of frustration, grew louder.  "Quiet!" I
barked, and the room was silent.  My cock continued to explore the valleys
and crevices of this man's butt, but despite wanting to, I wouldn't enter.
	Prolonged pleasure.  Prolonged pleasure.  It'll be worth the wait.
It'll be worth the wait.
	Without any warning, I slapped his right cheek as hard as I could.
Then I spat on it and pressed my cock all over the pink flesh.  I then slid
my wet cock back near it's dark cave, pressing, caressing, pulsing.  Whack!
My left hand made the symmetry complete.  Spit and wet cock caressed the
pain.  And again, my pole snaked back into hiding, teasing urgently but
never intruding.
	Each time I slapped, his muffled scream got a bit softer.  Each
time I retreated to that sumptuous ass's crevice, his moans grew more
urgent, more desperate.  Finally, after holding out as long as I could, I
gave in to the vision, the ass, the pleasure prolonged long enough.
	My cock tore into his ass, hitting bottom without a scream or a
shout from my bottom, just a satisfied moan of fulfilled lust.  I plowed in
and out with wild abandon, gritting my teeth and clenching his shoulders
with all my might.
	I lost myself in his ass, closing my eyes and ears to all but the
lurid slaps of my body striking his with each thrust.  Man heat built as
our pace increased.  He took everything, every plunge, every surge, every
stab of my hot cock.  My breathing got crazy and my body began to shudder.
I fucked and fucked, harder and harder.  Sweat rolled off my body.  It
mixed with his.
	I felt a searing, mind-numbing tightening at the base of my cock.
Gripping him harder, I shoved in and out wildly, my cock head pistoning
against his insides.  Faster and faster.  Finally, my body froze.
Everything went rigid.  I held my breath.  Everything was quiet for a brief
moment, a moment so quick it might not even exist.  Then, it came. The
explosion.  White-hot cum racing through the roots of my thick cock,
spraying out, painting his insides.  I felt like I was about to get sucked
out my own cock.  Gravity never knew such force.  My body shook
uncontrollably as I emptied my guts into my new found bottom-man.
	As my pulse began to settle, I looked down at his beautiful back
and strapped arms.  He was panting, his face to his side, stomach flat on
the desk.  I looked down and there was a pool of cum where he had made his
deposit...Don't ask me when it happened.  I didn't notice.
	The jock strap looked so good, so right in his mouth, I didn't want
to take it out, but I knew he had at least one other game to play.  I
untied him and we slowly, wordlessly got dressed. There was no tension; we
were simply exhausted.  As we were leaving, he smiled that gorgeous smile
at me one more time.  No words were needed.
	I watched a bit of his next match; they were losing.  My ride was
leaving, so I waved as I left.  He smiled, "I'll see you next year."  My
friend and I headed out, both of us upset that we did not win but vowing
that we would do better in New York the following year.  I'm not sure if I
will, but I'm sure going to try.