Date: Sun, 10 Apr 2005 18:36:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rio Mack <badprose@yahoo.com>
Subject: alien culture 9 (gay/college)

The Alien Culture Project, part 9

by Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of gay sex.

Chance looked at his watch as he left the salon.  It was after one.  He
made tracks for the gym.  He'd do his run, then his lower body workout,
then get some lunch and hit the library.  Hopefully, he could finish his
paper, get his clothes from the tailor, grab a quick bite, change, and meet
Reed in front of the club not too much past 7.  He laughed as he walked,
thinking of his day - late breakfasts with his lover, a cut with his
stylist, the gym, then trying on his new outfit, and finally an evening at
the club: hell, what a city slicker this ol' country boy had become, he
grinned.

He always used the small gym dedicated to the wrestling program for his
workouts.  Even though it was about a tenth the size of the main campus
gym, it had all the weights Chance needed, and he loved the atmosphere
there.  The building was old, probably from the 30s, and was used until the
1950s as the main campus gym.  It had hosted a variety of programs since
then, when the larger campus gym was constructed, and then about 15 years
ago it became home to the wrestling team.  That's when the program really
started taking off nationally.  Recently, it seemed someone, maybe his
coach, had put in some key improvements: sauna, whirlpool, a very cool
locker area that seemed like a health club, and a small but well-chosen
selection of fitness machines.  So it was functional as any gym could be,
plus had character, and the only ones who used it were the wrestling team -
indeed, they were the only ones who could use it, as you needed a key to
get from the lobby to the actual gym complex - and many of his team-mates
only showed up there for practice, preferring to do their regular work-outs
at the larger gym, with its bustling campus atmosphere and wider range of
equipment.  Chance, though, loved the quiet atmosphere of this place and
the beautiful lighting from the large windows that ringed the top of the
high-ceilinged exercise space.  For him, his workouts weren't about
socializing, they were about intensity, focus, concentration, and pushing
his body.

He stowed his gear in his locker, put on a jock and his running shorts and
shoes, then headed out for his cardio work.  It was a lovely Indian Summer
day, so he decided to run shirtless, wanting to feel the sun and warm
breeze on as much of his body as possible.

The route he liked to run went along the harbor-front, a gorgeous, touristy
part of town.  The run from the gym to there and back was about forty-five
minutes, just the length Chance wanted.  He couldn't help but notice the
stares he got from women and, mostly, men.  He glanced at his reflection in
a store window, and even he was taken aback.  Fuck, was he built.  And the
new haircut was incredible: it brought out his cheekbones, eyes, and
forehead more, making him look a little older, maybe, and even more like a
hard-chiseled jock stud, someone built for pure masculine physicality.
Chance ran on with a deep-body buzz pulsing through him.  Fuck, would he
like to get laid.  He returned the gaze of every good-looking stud who
stared suggestively, inquiringly, at him, a couple even licking their lips
or stroking their dicks: damn, would he like a quick one right now, to
release the load he could feel building in his balls.  But no time to stop
now; he had to get this run in.

He arrived back at the gym feeling great, body well-worked and ready to
pump some iron.  He stripped off his running shorts and noticed his body in
the mirror, clad in just a jock that looked painted on his rock-hard
physique.  Damn, stud, are you cut or what, he thought.  Inspired, he
figured he'd work-out in that sweat-soaked jock.  There'd be no one there,
and he could get a good look at himself in the mirrors lining the gym
walls.  He had to have mirrors when he worked out - not only to watch his
muscles pump, but to ensure proper form - and the more exposed musculature,
the better.

But when he entered the gym, he was surprised to see his team-mate Brock
finishing up a set of pull-ups.  Before saying anything, Chance watched
Brock's ripped upper body strain with each rep.  Fuck, Chance thought, this
guy is just all muscle. He was hypnotized as he watched the biceps,
triceps, and back muscles pump.  The blood was rushing in making the
muscles bigger, more striated, and eminently lickable.  Focus, Chance, he
told himself, but he was just horny as hell today.  Finally Brock hopped
off.

"Looking fucking good, dude," Chance laughed.

Brock, not having realized anyone was there, turned to see Chance.  His
gaze went immediately to that big sweat-drenched jock-pouch, and he broke
out in a huge grin.

"Dude!  I love your work-out wear!"

He walked over and hugged his team-mate and recent fuck-buddy.  They ground
their hard young cocks into each other, while their hands played over each
other's smooth, glistening muscles.  Brock kept grinding his cock against
Chance's long, semi-hard jock-pouch, and Chance let his fingers play hard
and insistent in Brock's ass.  Chance realized he would be getting his
rocks off after all, as there was no way he was gonna let Brock leave
without pumping a load or too in that sweet ass.  And he knew Brock felt
the same way: he was a very hungry bottom for a long, thick hunk of
boy-meat.  They kissed hungrily.

"Mmmm," said Brock, huskily, when they came up for air, "finish your
work-out fast, dude, cause I been dreaming about that dick o' yours ever
since our last fuck!"

Chance sauntered over to the squat rack, aware of Brock's eyes burning into
him.  Brock stripped off his gym-wear and flopped down on the mat nearest
the squat station.

"I'm gonna do my stretching here while I watch the best-built stud on
campus work that prime beef of his.  Damn, they should charge money for
this!"

Chance smiled, thinking how tough it was gonna be to focus with such a
breath-taking hunk lounging there seductively, stretching those beautifully
ripped muscles.  Oh well, the things we do for fitness, he shrugged.

After his squats and leg raises, Chance did his calf raises.  Brock had
finished stretching now, and was stroking his cock slowly, teasingly, as he
watched Chance's lean but bulky body rise and fall.  His eyes couldn't
decide where to focus their gaze: on that nice long clingy jock-pouch, made
almost transparent from sweat now, leaving little of Chance's thick uncut
beauty to the imagination; or those massive calves and quads, pumping and
flexing so sexily with each rep, begging for a tongue-bath; or Chance's
deeply-cut abs, which never failed to get Brock hard; or even that
gorgeous, newly-shaved head, making him seem like Mr. Muscle-Stud Supreme
now.

"Fuck, dude," said Brock leeringly, leaning back against a weight rack in
front of Chance, jacking his own uncut rod with one hand while fingering
his asshole with the other, "that haircut makes you look even hotter, if
that's possible."

Chance could hardly wait to finish his set.  Seeing his prize exposed there
as Brock teasingly fingered his rosebud, watching Brock go deeper and
deeper into that sweet hole he wanted so much to get into, gave Chance a
new burst of energy to make this last set his best.  God, did he want to
fuck.  His testosterone level, from the heavy does of athletics mixed with
such powerful erotics, must have gone through the roof.  Finally, he jumped
off the wooden boxes on which he did his calf-raises, embraced Brock's
gorgeous body, and pressed him close, licking his ear, breathing hot into
it, and stroking off the cut older boy as he whispered, "Just let me do my
abs and stretch a little, and then, fuck, do I want that ass of yours!"

"All right, but hurry.  I know I'm gonna shoot one enormous load before you
finish, watchin' that stud-body o' yours flexin' and ripplin' like crazy.
But I want you to pump the second one outta me with this huge stud-cock o'
yours!"  And with that, he gave Chance's ripe, semi-hard thickness a nice
squeeze to send him on his way to the ab station.

As these two studs were lost in their lusty workout haze, another
team-mate, Gar Daniels, was suiting up in the locker room.  Gar didn't
usually work out in the practice gym, but today he wanted to be alone, and
he knew this place was little-used by his fellow wrestlers.  It seemed Gar
was always on edge lately.  A lot of it was sex, he knew.  He had no
problem getting dates - he was pretty good-looking, he thought; plus years
of wrestling and all his work-outs had given him an incredible physique -
but each date seemed more and more unsatisfying for him.  Girls just wanted
either no foreplay or some kind of foreplay Gar hadn't a clue about.
Everything he did seemed wrong in bed lately.  Fucking was becoming no fun:
girls seemed snippy, critical; it was like they quickly sized him up as a
lousy lay, let him fuck them, then that was that.  But, damn, Gar didn't
feel like a lousy lay.  He had so much sensuality in him, it bubbled up
within him, driving him nuts.  Shit, he was willing to lap and lick a cunt
for hours (more for his sake, maybe, as his tongue and mouth were
incredible erogenous zones, he'd discovered), but not many girls really
seemed to want that.  He wanted his nipples played with and sucked and
lightly nipped at; he wanted his cock sucked and his ballsac licked; and
damn, did he ever want someone playing with his ass and kissing his pucker
- tonguing it like crazy, the way he'd like to tongue a girl's slit.  But
after the first "ew, gross!" response, he'd been to embarrassed to ask any
girl to pleasure him the way he wanted. And then there was fucking itself:
sloshing his dick around in some girl's stretched-out pussy, he had to
admit, was getting kinda old.  What he really wanted to do was find a girl
who would let him fuck her in the ass, especially if she had one that was
smooth and pert, like a young boy's.

So he lay in bed, or stood in front of the mirror, and jerked off to his
fantasies.  And what was really weird, what had Gar not a little worried,
was how almost always now, those fantasies featured another guy.  Gar had
always been a little ashamed at his interest in sexy male physiques, but
lately it had become almost an obsession.  It started about a year ago, in
high school.  He'd always pored through his fitness mags every month,
reading them over and over for work-out tips, but then he started to
realize how into the models he was.  Soon he began cutting out the sexiest
pictures, the most built guys, and putting them in a scrap book, which he'd
hid on his bookshelf and used the way he assumed most guys used porn.  He'd
add to it sexy pictures of barely-dressed guys in ads that he'd also
started noticing.

This interest in sexy photos of guys was simply a distilled version of his
ambient interest in good-looking guys in all parts of his life.  His
favorite date last summer was to take a girl to the beach, partly, he knew,
so he could scope out buff dudes.  And playing team sports last year had
gotten way more charged, as he'd really started getting serious about
covert stares in the showers or locker room.  And then, mid-way through
senior year, while surfing for muscle sites on the net, he'd discovered a
site with incredible-looking guys, all of whom were nude.  The nervous
thrill that went through Gar's young body at the time was incredible.  It
was like stumbling on the world's most marvelous secret.  He'd never shot
off so fast and hard in his life.  He visited that site several times a day
for the next week or so, then clicked on all its links, followed more
links, and soon had amassed about thirty bookmarks of incredibly hot
internet porn, plus a picture file filled with some of the internet photos
of naked guys that really got him off.  The desktop image, in fact, on his
laptop was an incredible photo of a gay porn superstar that never failed to
get Gar hard.  Thank God his parents respected his privacy and would never
snoop around on his computer - it now hid secrets that would really freak
them out.

Gar really didn't understand this.  Was it just normal male curiosity?  Did
it mean he was gay?  Some of the sites he liked had hot stories of guys
having sex, and so many of the ones that got Gar hard all described the
kind of sex he craved.  It was all too confusing.  Plus his parents, who he
was sure meant well, had started asking him why he wasn't dating more and
didn't he think the Fosters daughter was cute, and she was asking about
him.  How could Gar tell them what was going through his mind?  Hell, how
could he talk to anyone about it?

As he laced up his cross trainers, he thought back on the last practice
they had in this gym.  Fuck, was that hot.  The best-looking guy on the
team hands-down, Chance Taylor, hadn't worn a jock that day.  Oh fuck, was
that hot, as the outline of his long, thick meat was so beautifully
obvious.  Plus, he'd practiced with his singlet pulled down low, showing
off every cut line in that gorgeous physique of his.  And then, during
scrimmages, it seemed like he and Brock Sears were gettin' it on together
rather than wrestling.  Damn, Gar sure had spilled a lot of seed the past
day or so jerkin' off to that one.

But fuck, he thought, this was getting ridiculous.  He had to stop letting
these fantasies take over his waking mind.  It was leaving him feeling way
too messed up.

So when he turned the corner into the gym, he stopped dead.  There were his
two prime male fantasies in something even his over-active imagination
couldn't dream up: Chance Taylor was doing his ab work-out - reverse
crunches on the Roman chair - in just a jock strap.  Gar couldn't take his
eyes off him.  Neither, he noticed, could Brock Sears, who was sitting back
on a mat, his gorgeous, wiry body totally nude, stroking a hard, sweaty
dick and fingering his asshole.  Gar ducked behind the nearest weight rack
and pulled his own cock out.  He was nervous as hell, but he'd never been
so turned on in his life.

As Chance did his Roman chair work, his body pumped to perfection by now,
already beautifully cut abs standing out even more obscenely, Brock was
getting ready to cum.  He was jerking himself, playing with his balls, and
fingering his ass like crazy, dreaming of his stud team-mate's thick cock
up there.  Chance's cock by now was rock-hard and straining against his
sweat-drenched jock.

Finally, Chance finished his last set, jumped off, and flexed seductively
in front of Brock.  His gorgeous sweat-sheened body, with that long thick
uncut beauty seeming almost to pulse in that sweaty jock, was too much for
Brock.

"AW SHIT, man!  Here it comes!!"  Brock stood up and shot all over Chance,
then wasted not a minute: he hugged his friend close, rubbing his cream all
over Chance's well-worked abs, fingering his boy-juice into every cut
crevice.  With his other hand, he began to stroke Chance's achingly ripe
hardness, anxious for it to begin pleasuring his ass.  Inspired, he got
down in front of Chance, put his hands on Chance's ass to poke around in
his hole, and then began kissing, licking, and sucking on that jock pouch.
He was trying to suck out every bit of Chance's delicious jock sweat,
drinking it in like some heady erotic elixir.

"Oh fuck, does that feel good, stud.  Get me harder, man; I can't wait to
get up in that sweet ass of yours.  It's gonna feel so good after that - "

Suddenly from another part of the gym, the two young hunks heard a noise
like weight plates banging together.  They raced over to the sound, and
there, behind a weight rack, quickly pulling his gym shorts up, was another
team-mate of theirs, Gar Daniels.

"Gar!  What the fuck!"

"Oh shit, you guys.  Fuck.  I can't believe this.  I can't believe you two
are gay."

"Gar, what the fuck were you spying on us for?"

"Spying?  You two dudes were like having a fucking orgy in here.  Damn,
shit, I gotta get outta here."

Gar turned to go, but Brock smirked: "You sure you wanna go, dude?  I mean,
it sure looks to me like your dick wants to stay."

Gar turned back around and saw his two incredibly hot team-mates had their
arms entwined, each boy slowly stroking the other's hardness.  Gar was all
nervous and confused.

"This is - I mean, it's - what you guys are doing is - "

"What we're doing, Gar, is enjoying a fucking hot time together.  Two
fuckin' studs havin' a relaxin' fuck after a hard work-out.  Y'oughta try
it, dude.  Your dick wants to," and with that, Brock motioned to the
hard-on Gar couldn't conceal.

"Shit, man, don't front," Brock continued.  "You're hard as hell from
watching Chance and I get it on.  Why'nt you stop bullshitting about it and
join us?"

Both Chance and Brock were excited at the thought of a three-way with Gar.
He was sexy as hell.  He had short blonde hair, buzzed close like the other
two boys, but Gar's was buzzed all over, like Chance's (Brock kept a kind
of crew-cut on top of his).  Gar had very fine, but masculine features:
clear-blue eyes; thin, yet sensuous lips; and a square-cut jaw.  He looked
Scandinavian, Chance thought.  He wrestled at a weight somewhere between
Chance and Brock, and Chance didn't think he'd ever lost a match since the
semester began.  He was quite well-built, not especially tall, but massive,
with a really big, sexy chest.  Plus, he had a tiny little beard covering
the bottom of his chin that Chance thought looked sexy as hell.

Both Chance and Brock nuzzled up close to Gar seductively.  Brock went
right for Gar's crotch, gently tracing the outline of his young hardness.

"Come on, man.  Let's have some fun.  Ain't no one here but us sexy-ass
rasslers."

Chance, meanwhile, had stripped his own jock off.  He had his precum-oozing
cock pressed right into Gar's hip, and he was letting the fingers of one
hand play idly over Gar's lips, chin and jaw.  With the other hand, he was
rubbing the mounds of the boy's luscious butt.

"I - I just can't believe you two guys are like - I mean, I thought you
guys were two of the biggest studs on the team.  Aw fuck, Brock, Chance,
guys that feels so good, but, seriously, don't, man.  Please.  Stop.  Awww,
don't.  Stop.  Aw fuck, aw shit, man, don't stop."  Gar was swept away on a
tide of boy-lust.

Chance lowered Gar's shorts and jock, and the boy stepped out of them as if
in a dream.

"You guys, I - "

"Come on, dude.  We'll show you what a hot fucking body like yours is built
for."

They eased Gar onto the mat.  Chance started licking his cock and letting
his hands massage that big chest, kneading his pecs and tweaking his tits.
Brock, meanwhile, moved in close to Gar and began rubbing his own lean,
stubbly jaw against Gar's.  Then he kissed him hard, and Gar opened his
mouth gratefully to receive Brock's tongue.  The switch had been thrown,
Gar was ready to experience every passion available to a pleasure-driven
young boy.

"Ohhhh fuck, you guys," he moaned as Brock smothered him with kisses and
Chance sucked him to hardness.  "Fuck, I've been dyin' to get it on with a
guy.  Shit, I jack off all the time thinkin' about it.  Fuck man, you have
no idea!"

"We know, dude.  We know," Brock said.  "You're a red-blooded boy, man,
same as us."

Brock scooted his lean, muscled body around, so that his foreskin-covered
cock was right at Gar's lips.

"You wanna suck some cock?"

"Oh shit yes!" Gar cried.  He brought both hands up to stroke Brock's
hardness, play with the foreskin, revel in the feeling of finally having
another guy's dick in his grasp.  Then he let Brock guide the tip to his
lips.  He tasted it tentatively, letting his tongue-tip wander around
Brock's precum-covered piss-slit.  He looked up at Brock and grinned.

"Aw fuck that tastes good, dude!"

"Mmmm, you got a nice big taste of my sweet jock honey, dude.  I can feel a
little more oozin' out.  Lap it all up, man.  A boy's precum is the best
fuckin' taste in the world.  Then, keep licking and sucking and you'll get
the second-best taste: a nice big load of a young stud's cream."

Brock was gently tracing Gar's fine features as he encouraged Gar to take
more and more of his cock.  Soon Gar was hooked and going at it with an
almost delirious relish.  Gar couldn't decide what was giving him more
pleasure: Brock's cock in his lips or Chance's lips on his own cock.  Soon,
though, his body decided for him, and he pulled his mouth off Brock; Chance
had brought him to the brink.

"OH FUCK, Chance!!  AW CHRIST, I'm gonna shoot."

Brock smiled as he saw Gar's face clench, and watched as the boy squirted a
huge creamy load all over his abs and chest.  Chance took a small taste, as
did Brock, and the rest they let cover Gar.  He looked so sexy baptized
with the traces of his first experience of ripe young boy-sex.

"Aw shit that was fine, Chance!"  Gar cried, amped as hell.  He hungrily
put Brock's cock back in his mouth and resumed his first blow-job.

Chance was so hard he was hurting.  He knelt there, just mesmerized by
Gar's sweet ass.

"Gar, man, you ready for some more fun?"  He eased his fingers down into
Gar's ass-crack so the boy would know what he meant.

"Shit yeah, man.  I want you guys to show me everything, I wanna do
everything I been dreamin' about!  Aw fuck is this ever hot!"

Kneeling there on the mat, ready to break in the sweet cherry ass of this
gorgeous stud, Chance gazed down the length of his own tight, 8-pack slab,
shimmering with sweat, to his obscenely hard dick, so eager to plow this
young hunk's ass and show him more of the sweet, indescribable pleasures
he'd been denying himself.  Chance stroked his long, thick shaft slowly in
anticipation, at the same time rubbing the smooth, wriggling globes of his
formerly straight team-mate's ass, moving in to work open his virgin
pucker, encouraged by the way it seemed to hug his finger, clamp down
hungrily and draw it into it, begging for something bigger and harder.

A kind of heavy, erotic thrum started to pulse through Chance's brain; he
was being overcome by the strong, deep waves of physical lust oozing
through it.  'There's nothing like a tight young ass,' was what that
delicious, rhythmic pulse seemed to be saying over and over.  Chance rubbed
that sweet, smooth ass tenderly, mouth starting to drool with sheer sexual
longing.  He played inside it more, watching his own long, wet cock bounce
and twitch, like an eager young colt, anxious to get into the stable.  He
got what seemed a handful of Gar's cum, scooped from off his abs, and mixed
it with his own spit and precum, then he worked it in around Gar's hole,
spreading it further and further open with his thumbs, poking his fingers
as far up into that virgin pleasure-zone as they would go.  Chance giggled
a little at how insistently wriggly Gar's ass was, eager as hell to feel
its first hard boy-cock up there.  Gar, tingling with the most crackling
sexual electricity he'd ever felt, took his mouth off Brock's luscious dick
for a moment to cry out excitedly to Chance:

"Aw fuck, man!  You got me goin' crazy, Chance!  Please, dude!  I gotta
know what that big, beautiful hard cock o' yours feels like up there!  Fuck
me, stud, fuck me, please!  Feed me that incredible dick of yours!  Take my
cherry, man!  Let me know what a gorgeous muscle-stud's big dick feels like
filling up my ass!  Damn, you boys are so fucking beautiful, so fucking
sexy.  God, this is the most incredible sex I've ever had.  Fuck, I never
want this shit to end!"

Gar got back on Brock's dick.  Chance watched Brock reach a hand behind him
and play with their team-mate's hard, wet cock.  Gar had a tight, ripe
ballsac, not loose and full like his and Brock's.  It was made for
tickling, and that's just what Brock was doing.  Chance smiled to see the
boy's stiff pink 7 inches dance around excitedly under Brock's playful
teasing.

As Chance worked Gar a little wider, he thought of all the good-looking
young guys on campus like Gar, like he himself had been, so hungry for hot,
sensuous, deeply-satisfying sex, the kind of complete physical passion one
could only experience with another boy.  It felt so fine to Chance to be
able to initiate a hot young dude like Gar into this wonderful erotic
fulfillment.  He was glad Reed was cool with him having these dalliances.
Chance didn't feel at all like he was cheating on Reed.  He just felt like
a healthy, lusty young boy who was glad he could be intimate with others
like him.  And for boys like Cain and Kyle and Gar, he felt like a kind of
guide, an older brother maybe, showing them a whole world of physical and
sensual pleasure they'd only secretly dared dream of.

I'm gonna give him the fuck of his life, Chance thought, as he plunged his
thick, wet dick in, slowly but firmly.  His whole body seemed to sigh as
that warm, moist, tight flesh enveloped his cock.  It was intoxicating to
hear Gar's deep moans of bliss resonate through his deliciously
cock-stuffed mouth.  Gar must be on Cloud Fucking Nine.

He lifted Gar's legs onto his shoulders and started into fucking.  All the
ambient lust of the past couple hours came to a head in Chance.  He could
feel his big jostling balls filled to the brim.  After a few good thrusts,
he found his sweat-slick cock could move easily in Gar's ass.  He
long-dicked him for a while, so Gar could relish the incredible feel of
hard, thick boy-meat up his ass.  The whimpers of pleasure coming from Gar
were music to Chance's ears.  Then he settled in for some serious fucking.
Might as well let this kid have the ride of his life first time out.
Chance raised his bulk up, grabbed Gar's hips, and started pistoning.

"Strap yourself in, dude.  This is gonna be some serious fucking."

Chance was soon hitting spots in a boy's ass he'd never known before, so
intent on this fuck he was.  Brock hopped around so he and Gar could
sixty-nine each other while Chance fucked.  Actually, Brock wanted to watch
his hot stud team-mate fuck up close; he was a little jealous it wasn't his
ass being reamed by that gorgeous hunk of meat.  Oh well, he thought, maybe
later in the showers.  That thought was enough to inflame his lust again,
and he sucked Gar with relish.

As he sucked, Brock stared down at Chance's newly buzzed pubic patch,
shaved almost to the skin, so fucking masculine, and he watched that thick,
veiny rod go in and out, up to the hilt, enveloped by Gar's tight, young
virgin hole.  How fucking hot!  He started face fucking Gar with a fury
almost as hard as Chance's.  He brought his hands around to dig into
Chance's hole as the stud savagely took Gar's cherry; he knew a finger up
his ass would get Chance even harder.

"Oh yeah, dude!  Play with that ass!  Fuck, Gar, you got the tightest ass I
ever fucked.  Shit, is this sweet!"

Gar said nothing.  He could only suck and whimper.  He was almost in tears
at having sex beyond anything he could have ever fantasized.  He wondered
if you could blackout from such pleasure.  He could feel another load build
lusciously in his balls.

Brock meanwhile was sucking Gar to his second climax, all the while playing
Chance's ass like a concert pianist.  He loved going low, down to the
perineum, so he could feel Chance's big ballsac flapping hard against Gar's
ass.

Gar pulled off Brock for a second to pant, "Fuck, guys . . . I'm gonna
. . . uurrrggh!"

Brock pulled off so Chance could watch the boy cum.  Sure enough, it was so
hot watching ropes of Gar's cream shoot that Chance knew he was cumming.
He pressed his hips in firm and shot a major load in Gar's ass.  The
expression on the boy's face - that gorgeous stud's stubbly jaw clenched in
the height of a young boy's passion - was all it took for Brock, who
creamed all over Gar's flushed face.  The three young wrestlers collapsed
in a heap of hard, chiseled flesh.

After a few minutes Brock and Chance raised themselves off Gar.  The boy
just lay there, looking as sublime as a young zen monk, trails of thick cum
covering his face and torso.

"How was it, dude?" Brock laughed.  "Glad you stuck around?"

Gar raised himself and tenderly kissed his two team-mates in turn.  Then he
grinned.  Nothing else needed saying.

"C'mon guys," Chance called, already up and headed for the showers, long
dick bobbing while he sped off.  "I gotta get goin'!"

He'd turned on a few shower heads, so the place was all steamy a few
minutes later when Gar and Brock sauntered in, one hand on each other's
ass, the other stroking each other's dick.  They all huddled together under
one shower, pressing up close against themselves as they washed, in the
robustness of youthful passion.  Gar insisted on squatting down to wash
each of their cocks thoroughly, which led to him sucking both of those
irresistibly tempting, long, uncut danglers.  First one in his mouth, while
he played with the other's foreskin, then the other.  This went on until
both boys' dicks were hard, full, and ready to shoot again.  Gar kept
turning from one to the other, sucking, jacking, and ball-tickling, while
Chance and Brock kissed, tongue-dueled, and pinched each other's nipples.

Suddenly, Brock shouted, "All right, dudes!  My turn!  C'mon, Chance!  You
know what I want, stud!"

Chance smiled, hot and hard now for the chance to fuck Brock's hard, tight
ass.  Brock put his hands against the shower wall and jostled his ass
alluringly at Chance.

"Slam that thick meat into me, stud!  I need a first-class fucking!"

Gar watched blissfully while these two gorgeous boys went at it.  He stood
in back of Chance, rubbing the boy's hard, rippling back muscles as he
slowly and sensuously long-dicked Brock.  Then he got an idea.  He bent
down, spread those hard, muscular cheeks, and lapped at Chance's crack.

"SHIT YEAH, Gar!' Chance whooped.  "You KNOW I want some fine-ass sexy stud
givin' me a rim job while I poke this tight jock ass!"

Gar was thrilled Chance was into it.

"Fuck man, I could eat this beautiful ass of yours all day, Chance.  I get
hard as hell rimming you, dude!"

Gar couldn't believe he was talking like this.  It was just the kind of
dirty sex-talk he'd always dreamed of sharing with a partner.  It got him
hard as hell.  He let his tongue and lips go wild on Chance's hole, doing
to this hunk's ass what he'd wanted to do to girls' cunts for so long.
Only this was better: Chance was shaved smooth, and it felt delicious
lapping at his slick crack while kneading the rock-hard globes of his
butt-cheeks.  He lapped, licked, breathed hot, and snaked his tongue all up
in his new fuck-buddy's ass.

"AW SHIT, that's so fucking fine, Gar.  You could give lessons in this
shit, man!  You got me hard as hell!"

"He's right dude," Brock cried, loving the ass-pounding he was getting.
"Chance feels even bigger than the last fuck we had in these showers!"

Gar's head started swimming in the wondrous reveries of lusty youth.  He'd
stroked himself hard as he thought about it: So these boys have fucked in
here before?  Damn, he thought, maybe other guys on this team are gay, too.
Fuck, wouldn't it be great to have regular sex like this, with the gorgeous
boys on his team?  He had to know.

"Damn, do you mean guys on the team have sex after practice?"

"Shit, yeah, man!  There's always a few dudes gettin' it on in the showers
or the whirlpool or over by the lockers. I mean, fuck, I'm so horny most
days after practice, I could shaft a snake!  Shit, man, you gotta join us
from now on, dude!"

Gar was so fucking thrilled to think his sexual frustrations were over.
All his confusion and uneasiness had burst through this afternoon into
glorious pleasure: it was as if, deep down inside, his soul had cum along
with his cock.  With a wet, soapy hand, he jacked his own cock and fingered
his hole as he continued to luxuriate in rimming this sexy, shaved
muscle-stud's ass.  Chance by now was flexing his cheeks against Gar's
tongue every time he drove into Brock's ass.  It was incredible to feel
this gorgeous jock respond so well to the oral pleasure Gar was giving him.
Fuck, Gar thought, finally - real honest-to-goodness sex, at last!  Shit,
he was so damn happy he felt like yelling.  Why not?

"DAMN, dude!  I love this sweet, shaved, hard jock ass of yours, Chance!"

"Keep rimmin' me, dude.  I want that hard fuckin' tongue o' yours buried in
my ass when I cum in Brock.  And I'm gettin' pretty close."

Chance started jacking Brock's uncut beauty hard and fast, in the same
rhythm he was using to pump his ass.  Gar's exquisite rim-job was the icing
on the cake.  Chance felt his balls ready to erupt.

"Here it comes, studs!" he cried.

And with that he slammed into Brock's ass.  As the warm jets spurted into
him, Brock shot off.  The force of all this boy-lust was too much for Gar,
who immediately blew his load.

Afterwards, the boys rinsed off, kissed each other tenderly, and raced to
get dressed.

Outside, Gar hugged them both, thanking them for this epochal day in his
life.

"Shit, Gar," Brock smiled, "I bet I speak for Chance, too, when I say we
were only too glad to let you experience the kind of sex guys crave.  Any
time, dude, any time!"

"Welcome to the wonderful world of wonderful sex," Chance smiled, kissing
his new fuck-buddy goodbye.

As it turned out, Gar's parents would happily wonder that night what in the
world happened to take their son out of the funk he'd seemed to be in for
the past few months.  It was wonderful, they felt, to have their darling
boy back.

About ten minutes after he'd left the gym, Chance grabbed a take-out
grilled chicken sandwich then raced on to the library, feeling fine as
fuck.

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