Date: Sat, 22 Sep 2012 19:26:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dj Montgomery <djmontgomery99@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Therapy," Chapter 1

This is a work of fiction although some scenes may have been modeled after
events that are real and possibly autobiographical.  Any resemblance to
real or actual events, and/or persons, living or deceased, is purely
coincidental and not intentional.

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"Therapy"
    chapter 1

     Brayden and I had been together since college.  I have always been a
rabid fan of rugby, and we met at a club tournament.  He was captain of his
club team, and I was there watching and supporting friends on a rival team.
He caught my eye almost immediately.  My team lost by one point, but I had
to fake my displeasure.  I was really glad that Brayden had scored three
trys, and had even scored a drop goal in the last minute to put his team
ahead for good.

     We exchanged phone numbers, and he called me that evening, inviting me
out for brunch the next day.  He stopped to pick me up, but we never made
it to brunch.  When he met me at the door, he was wearing a light gray silk
shirt, crisp linen slacks of dazzling white, and grey deck shoes.  He
actually had his back to the door, as though surveying the rolling expanse
of lawn at my parent's estate.  His slacks stretched across his bubble
butt, inviting me to look beneath.

     When he turned around, I was treated to the sight of the shirt open to
the navel, with a covering of blond hair cascading down from just below his
neckline, and it narrowed to a treasure trail as it vanished beneath the
last two visible buttons of his shirt.

     My eyes traveled back up the luscious body, and focused in on his
gorgeous face which was topped by another thatch of mid-length blonde hair
and deep blue eyes which seemed to pierce through to my soul.  His skin had
a ruddy complexion, and the three days growth of beard framed his square
chin and ruggedly handsome features.  His mouth was moving, opening and
closing, but I didn't hear what was being said.  I watched the full lips
move sensuously up and down, and I imagined what it would be like to become
overpowered by them.

     "Are you going to invite me in, or will I need to ask a few dozen more
times?"

     I finally hear the words that were escaping from his lips, gathered my
wits, and invited him in.  Like I said, we never made it to brunch.  And I
almost didn't make it to any of my classes that next week, and the same
could be said for Brayden.  I've been told that in the animal world, few
animals mate as voraciously as rabbits.  One of those animals which
surpasses rabbits is the mink.  Yes, Brayden and I fucked like minks that
week.  Every imaginable position.  Every imaginable time of the day and
night.  Every imaginable location throughout my parents' house, including
the front porch (at night with the lights off) and my parents' bed.  My
parents were away on an extended vacation, somewhere on a Mediterranean
island, so the house was ours to use.  Again, and again, and again.

     I wish that I could tell you that this match was made in heaven, but
almost as soon as the novelty of the relationship wore off, Brayden began
to abuse me.  When he was struggling with his business classes, or when his
rugby team lost, or when he wasn't feeling good, or when he saw someone
else that he really desired, he would come home to me and beat me.

     It began with our sexual encounters, and he said he was just getting
carried away "in the moment."  Then the beatings began outside of sex.  He
began to accuse me of infidelity, at the same time that he was beginning to
sleep around with other guys and girls that he desired.  Yes, Brayden was
an equal opportunity whore, sleeping with women as well as men.  I was
beginning to fear catching something from him, as I didn't know if he was
being safe.  Since he had never been safe with me, I doubted that he would
be safe with others.

     Then, about two months after we met, Brayden's team went to the
state's college Rugby championship.  Rugby was not a sanctioned sport at
any colleges in our state, so the title would be just for pride, but as
captain of his team, Brayden really wanted to win.  Oddly enough, the team
they were playing was sponsored by a college not fifty miles from us, yet
the teams had not met during the season.  It was my first time seeing the
Blue Shirts in action against my Scorpions, and I was looking forward to
the action.  Rumor had it that the Scorpions, captained by a guy with just
one name, Demetriou, were tough and skilled.  Brayden would have his work
cut out for him.

     A few days before the match, the tension was getting to Brayden and
when he came home, the beating was intense.  I ended up in the emergency
room, with Brayden telling the attending doctor that I'd fallen down the
stairs and he'd found me unconscious.  I had a concussion and bruises, with
a hairline fracture of my left forearm.  No one could prove Brayden wrong,
and I was afraid to speak up.  At six feet two inches and two hundred ten
pounds, Brayden towered over me by seven inches and outweighed me by
fifty-five pounds.  At this point in our relationship, I feared him.

     The night before the game, he gave me a black eye and made my nose
bleed and swell.  I looked like a walking mess when I went to the game.  As
the team approached the sidelines to warm up for the game, I came forward
to give Brayden his good luck kiss.  He grabbed me and tried to rape my
mouth.  There was nothing sexy or lucky about what happened there.  I felt
like I was being put on display, and being abused at the same time.  When
Brayden had finished with me, I quietly walked to the far end of the
bleachers and sat alone, feeling very dirty at that moment.

     I put my head in my hands for a few minutes and asked myself what I
was doing here.  Why was I continuing to stay with Brayden?  Was I afraid
he's come for me if I left him?  He knew where I lived, knew what classes I
was taking at college, and even knew where I liked to hang out.  There was
no getting away from him.  I felt trapped.

     I raised my head and gazed out over the field, wiping away the few
tears that I dared to cry for my situation.  What met my eyes was a hulk of
a man across the field, staring straight at me.  When I say hulk, I'm not
describing an unattractive man; on the contrary, he was very attractive.
But taking in his size, the word "hulk" was all I could use to describe
him.  This was Demetriou.

     I would learn later that he was six feet six inches tall, and weighed
two hundred and sixty-five pounds, putting Brayden at a disadvantage in a
match between the two of them.  Demetriou was taller, heavier, and as I was
to learn very soon, even more skilled than Brayden.

     The Scorpions were able to go out to a short-lived lead at the start,
but soon began to lose ground.  Brayden was having a bad game, and was
getting frustrated.  I worked my way down the bleachers so that I was
sitting with the bulk of the fans behind the Scorpions bench.  I cheered my
team on, hoping that they would be able to come back.  I cheered Brayden
for every small, positive thing he did, in hopes of encouraging him and the
team to victory.

     Near the end of the second half, Brayden took himself out of the game
for a short period of time, and he paced behind the bench while regaining
his composure.  As he walked past me, I reached out to touch his shoulder
so that I could get his attention.  I wanted to tell him I loved him, and
that I knew they'd come back to win.  As I reached for him, he saw me out
of the corner of his eye, and he brought up his arm to push away mine.  He
caught me off-guard, and sent me sprawling over the bleachers.  He turned
without even looking my way, and checked back into the game.

     The scene had not gone unnoticed by someone from the Blue Shirts team.
Demetriou.  He'd taken himself out of the game soon after Brayden had,
trying to match his rest so that Brayden couldn't get the upper hand when
returning to the match with a second wind.  He saw me being pushed away,
and being ignored by Brayden.  When Brayden checked back into the game,
Demetriou re-entered himself.

     Those last few minutes were a punishing onslaught by the Blue Shirts,
as if they were not trying so much to win as much as to embarrass and
punish the Scorpions.  They scored twice in the last five minutes, when the
game was no longer in doubt.  The last score saw Demetriou score a try by
going right through Brayden.  He pushed him down, face to the ground and
stepped on him as he went over the line.  Demetriou was trying to make a
point, and he did.

     When the match was over, both sides lined up to shake hands.  Both
captains positioned themselves at the end of their lines.  When Demetriou
approached Brayden, he took away his hand and refused to shake.  Instead,
he walked around Brayden, and headed for me.  I was standing at the
sideline now, and Demetriou approached me confidently.  He reached out,
wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward him.  He
reached down, and gently buried his tongue into my mouth, caressing the
insides around my tongue with his.  I have no idea how long he kissed me; I
was totally gone, unable to put together a coherent thought.

     I felt Demetriou pick me up and hold me on his hip with one arm.  When
he broke the kiss, he looked around for Brayden, walked over and spit in
his face.  Brayden did nothing.  Demetriou carried me into the Blue Shirts
locker room and there he undressed me.  He undressed himself,removing his
jersey while I stared at him in utter amazement.  Neither of us was aware
of the other teammates in the locker room, and none of them dared to
intrude on Demetriou's activity.

     As he removed his pants, a well-worn jockstrap came into view.  It
looked as though it had not been washed for many games, maybe never.
Within the pouch was a tool of gigantic proportions, straining to be
released.  Demetriou approached me, and seeing that the pouch was at mouth
height for me as I sat on a bench, I opened wide and sucked the jockstrap
into my mouth.  I soaked the jock with my spit, and then sucked all the
flavor from the jockstrap that I could.  I mouthed the dirty jock, and the
huge slab of meat held within, for what seemed like hours.  It may have
been only ten minutes, but it was long enough to allow those watching us to
stiffen, groan and begin shooting loads all over the locker room floor.

     Demetriou looked up from my jock munching, and he beckoned his
teammates to shoot on me.  About half had not cum yet, and many took the
opportunity to approach, but not too close.  Just close enough to shoot all
over my shoulders, neck, and face.  When Demetriou had seen enough, he held
up his hand for everything to stop.  Then he removed his jock to reveal a
good eleven inches of thick man meat.

     He gathered me up in his arms, and carried me to the showers.  Hands
jacking cocks, accompanied by groaning, followed us to the showers, but
kept their distance.  Before he turned on the shower, Demetriou sucked and
licked a mouthful of cum off my upper body, then turned me around and
spread the cheeks of my ass.  He placed his lips on my ass lips, and
proceeded to lick and pull open my hole, just enough so that he could pack
the mouthful of cum into my quivering opening.  He intended to use the cum
of his teammates as lube for his first go round at my ass, and I was loving
the idea.

     Demetriou's dark complexion and dusting of black hair across his upper
body, arms and legs contrasted with my smooth, slim, alabaster physique.
His fucktool, with its size, looked like it would never fit inside my
shitchute.  Its thickness made it appear like he was going to try to shove
a telephone pole into a hot dog bun, and the length almost guaranteed that
I'd choke on it as it tried to exit out my mouth on its journey from my
ass.

     Thank goodness that cum is slick, and the cum used as lube, provided
by teammates, allowed the head to slip in after several tries.  It
certainly felt like Demetriou was splitting my ass in two, but I would not
allow myself to scream, only groan with the pain.  He reached down to turn
on the shower, and leaned in to my ear at the same time.

     "I'm going to turn on the shower, and your body will be bathed in warm
water.  It will create a soothing, healing environment for you.  And for
me.  My goddess, when I first saw you I knew I needed to have you.  When I
saw you being discounted by that weak excuse for a man, I knew that you
needed me, too.  I won't say any more.  I'll let me body talk for me, and
you will know of my love for you, my sweetness."

     Demetriou began to slowly sink his cock into my love channel,
continuing deeper until he met resistance.  He nuzzled and kissed my neck,
then latched on to my shoulder and began to bite down.  I responded with
groaning, and Demetriou pushed through the resistance, taking his cock
deeper than anything I had felt before.  He was now in uncharted territory,
deeper than anyone had gone before with me.  As I felt his wiry pubes crush
against my ass cheeks, his inward descent stopped.  I wanted him to go
further, deeper, but that was not physically possible.

     He began to withdraw, and I clamped down with my ass muscles, trying
to hold him in.  He massaged my shoulders with his hands, letting me know
that this retreat was just temporary.  He began to push back in, going
deep.  He then set up a rhythm of long dicking, mostly agonizingly slow,
but occasionally a quick jab was thrown in.  Each slow thrust was
stretching my ass muscles, threatening to leave behind a gaping hole that
would never close.

     I was getting close to cumming, and told him so.  He kept the slow,
in-and-out pistoning action at the same steady tempo, but reached around
with is right hand to close his fist around my cockhead.  He squeezed a few
times, and soon my cum was pooling in his hand.  As I shot, my knees began
to buckle, and with his left arm, he reached around me and held me up.  The
muscles of my love channel squeezed tight around his throbbing cock, and
with a few quick, deep jabs, I could feel him release a number of shots of
hot cream into my gut.

     When I was done, he brought his right hand up to his mouth and took
about half of my cum into his mouth.  He swallowed it with obvious delight.
Then he reached that hand back around to my mouth, and fed me my own cum,
having me lick all of his fingers and his palm clean.

     While eating and feeding me my cum, he never stopped his relentless
attack on my ass.  And the other guys in the showers continued to jack
their cocks, some cumming for the second time.  A few had gone to their
knees and were being fed cock by their teammates, but most continued
solitary ejaculation.

     Demetriou's cock stiffened again.  He began to pick up speed with his
pounding, and I began to regain my stiffness.  Demetriou shouted for
someone to suck my cock.  Two teammates responded, one on each side of me.
They took turns taking my cock into their mouths, and occasionally licked
and sucked in tandem.  The one not sucking my cock worked over my balls,
bathing them in spit.

     He shouted for someone else to rim his ass, and again, two teammates
responded.  They worked together to massage the globes of his ass, licking
and biting at his ass lips, and pulling his ass open as they probed his
anal orifice with their fingers one at a time, then two.

     When it became apparent that Demetriou was getting close to cumming a
second time, he spun me around, shoving the others to the side, and he
looked me directly in the eyes.  He gave me a command that was loud and
specific.  "Fuck me!"

     He spun me around his body, and I found myself lining up my cock with
his hole.  I'd always been a bottom, and believe it or not, this god of a
man would become the first ass I had fucked.  I hesitated for a moment, and
the mountain of a man who was bent over before me looked back at me,
smiled, and then pushed back forcefully, jamming me to the hilt into his
ass.

     His ass was like a blast furnace.  I thought my cock would be burnt to
a crisp, yet the hole was as moist as it was hot.  Demetriou clamped down
with his ass muscles and I thought I was going to pass out.  I never got
the chance to fuck his ass, as I began to shoot right then into the depths
of his gut.  I screamed an emotional release, and as my intense reaction
began to wane, it was followed in similar fashion by a screaming groan from
the muscled god on the end of my throbbing prick.  He painted the floor
with his manmilk while his groaning continued.  As my cock softened, it
fell from his ass and he turned around to embrace me.  He had been sobbing
and even the shower couldn't mask the tears flowing down his cheeks.

     As he embraced me, cheers and howls erupted from the gathered throng.
Guys approached us, slapped us on the back and hugged us.  More than a few
grabbed Demetriou and I by the ass and squeezed.  A few even slipped a
finger into my ass, and I saw them lick their fingers as they turned to go
to the locker room to get dressed.

     Soon, only Demetriou and I remained in the shower.  We still needed to
get clean, and we took turns washing each other.  Shampooing each other's
hair was a sensual delight.  Finally we were done, and we returned to the
locker room to dry off.  Demetriou took his time in drying me with his own
thick bath towel.  I needed to use two of the gym-issue towels to get him
dry.  We each dressed ourselves, but watched the other, a little sad that
the beauty of the body was being covered.

     As we exited the locker room, Demetriou asked if he could take me for
dinner.  I accepted.  I really didn't want to go home and possibly face
Brayden, if he had the balls to show up at my house.

     Demetriou walked me to his car with his arm around me.  He opened the
door, and then closed it when I had gotten in.  Brayden had never opened
the car door for me.  Maybe Demetriou was one of those old-fashioned,
romantic guys that people love to fall in love with.

     When he got in, Demetriou leaned over and gave me a long deep kiss.
Then he looked me in the eyes.  I felt like I was falling into those soft,
chocolaty brown eyes of his.  The dark lashes beckoned me to come, and I
returned his kiss with one of my own, but mine was ravenously sexual, and
it told him that I wanted him.  Deeply.  Repeatedly.

     Demetriou pulled back and blushed.  I looked at him with a questioning
look on my face.  It didn't take long for me to get my answer for his
blush.

     "I feel that I may have led you on."

     Ohoh!  I'm not sure that I wanted to hear what was coming next.  Was
this the world's shortest relationship?

     "I think I gave you the impression that I have a lot of experience,
that maybe I'm a player, and that I had to have you.  Yes, I had to have
you, but you need to know that you are my first."

     Wow!  Instead of calling an end to our budding relationship, Demetriou
was just coming clean about his lack of experience.

     "So, I was your first.  From your actions, I thought maybe you had a
lot of practice.  Let me tell you, you are good.  I'm honored to be the
first guy you fucked!"

     Demetriou added, "Not just the first guy I fucked...you are also the
first to fuck me.  I was a virgin, and you took my cherry right there in
front of the team.  It was everything I dreamed that it would be.  I'm so
glad that I saved myself...I just wish I had not had to wait so long for my
heart to tell me that I found the right guy!"

     Yes, I found a romantic.  But I was a little shy about how
relationships can play out.  I remembered how wonderfully my relationship
with Brayden had begun, and how it had turned sour fast.  I truly hoped
that I had found my true love, but I guess that only time would tell.


...to be continued...