Date: Tue, 18 Apr 2017 02:12:28 +0000
From: tom davis <underarmour001@hotmail.com>
Subject: Born to Bottom 9

Born to Bottom Chapter 9

Tuesday was just another day at training camp.  The boys woke up early, had
breakfast, some class time which was so boring for Grant and Sean. A couple
of hours of watching game tape and lectures on safety and how to keep
yourself from getting a concussion on the field.

Grant could barely keep his eyes open.  Sean was rested since he stayed in
last night and went to sleep after his phone sex with Donny. Sean looked
over at Grant and laughed quietly as his head was bobbing up and down,
struggling to stay awake.

Sean nudged him. "Dude. Wake up." He whispered.

Grant opened his eyes and sat up in his seat. He looked over at Sean and
smiled. "So fucking tired." He whispered back.

They had met up for breakfast where Grant filled Sean in on his Monday
night escapade. There weren't too many details. He had met up with Ford and
Joe again at the frat house and spent the evening getting tag-teamed by the
two muscle jocks.

"Amateur." Sean smiled. His grin showing his whiter than white teeth.

"What?" Grant asked.

"You're making up for lost time. You're going to need a week to recover
after the past two weeks."

"Fuck off," Grant nudged him, "I can't help it if every hot dude out there
wants a piece of me."

"Oh brother," Sean rolled his eyes, "Whatever, dude. You need to start
pacing yourself."

"Whatever."

Suddenly a voice came from the front of the room. "Mr. Woods and
Mr. Johnston, is there anything you two would like to share with the
class?" The Assistant Coach, Carl Turner stood with his arms folded across
his too tight polo shirt, his chest folding on each other like two pillows.

Everyone in the room turned to look at the two. Grant's heart pounded from
the sudden interruption.

"No, Sir." They both replied at the same time.

"You sure? Because if it's more important than then getting a concussion,
I'd really like to know."

Assistant Coach Carl Turner was a force to be reckon with. Standing 6'4 and
about 220 lbs of pure muscle, he was a no bullshit kind of guy.  He sported
a short blondish-brown haircut, clean-cut and messy on top. He never smiled
and he was tough as nails. In college he was a quarterback and a damn good
one. His body was tight and deeply tanned.  Plump defined muscle packed
into a prime athletic body. Fucker was beyond hot. He stood at the front
next to white board. His black polo was snug, the short sleeves were about
to burst from the pumped biceps. His matching black shorts fit snug on his
muscular thighs and against his high and tight ass. His legs shaved smooth
showing every cut of muscle that could be seen.

Sean looked at all the guys in class looking at him. "The fuck you all
looking at?" The class turned back around.

"Johnston!" The Coach exclaimed as his hands moved to his hips in a classic
Superman pose.

"Sorry, Coach Turner. It won't happen again." Grant interjected trying to
diffuse the situation.

The Coach's eyes were burning a hole though Sean's. Ignoring Grant's
apology, he said, "Johnston, you better start watching your
attitude. You've been nothing but a pain this week..."

"This week?" Someone from the class said loudly followed by multiple
giggles.

Coach continued, "you need to check yourself. That shit won't fly in
college ball. No recruiter is going to want a hot-head on his team."

Sean stared back defiantly at Coach Turner. Coach stared right back. His
look said, 'try me motherfucker.'

Grant reached under the table and squeezed Sean's knee and
whispered. "Dude. Stop."

Sean tuned his stare to Grant. "Sorry." Sean said loudly to the Coach while
still looking at Grant.

Coach moved back to the whiteboard. "Speaking of recruiters, there's a few
showing up today. Not going to tell you who is who though. It'll be a
surprise." He said, dickishly.

The whole class sat up at attention, all eager and curious to know who they
were, from what schools.

"So you better all have your shit together. Even though some of you are not
seniors this could be good from some of you." He said as he again looked at
Sean.

Sean stared back. He got a feeling, a weird tingle when Coach looked at him
this time.

"Play your cards right and maybe some of you will be heading off to college
with a full scholarship." Again looking at Sean.

Sean was still staring at the coach. It was like they were having a
"stare-off." Suddenly Sean saw a flash in his head of Coach Turner pinning
him up against a wall, railing his ass long and hard. He hated having that
thought because he was not a fan of the hot as hell coach. They had clashed
horns ever since Sean arrived at camp. He didn't know why he was getting
boned over this jerk. Maybe it was the authoritative tone coupled with the
fitness model body. All he knows is that he winced when the image of Turner
filling his ass with thick, creamy cum. Cringing at the possibility of
giving himself up to the cocky bastard.

The coach turned away and pointed at the whiteboard getting back to the
topic at hand but not before looking back at Sean one more quick time
before proceeding. "Everyone open up the pamphlet I gave you and let's take
a look at the section on how to spot symptoms of a concussion." When the
students looked down at their pamphlets, Turner turned again to look at
Sean.  Sean was still staring at him as they made eye contact. This time it
was different.  The look felt less confrontational and more like Turner
knew something. Sean gave him a devious sneer with his upper lip curled up
slightly to one side as he gave a short nod. Turner eyes darted to Grant
and then back to him and he nodded back. Sean now felt at ease.

Grant witnessed the exchange and saw Sean's cocky sneer. Sean was sizing up
Coach Turner like he always does when he's about to throw down and Grant
could tell he was holding back. He knew what he really wanted to do was
jump across the seats and beat the shit out of Coach Turner or he wanted to
fuck him.

Grant reached over to Sean's notebook and wrote, 'WTF? DON'T BE
STUPID. YOU'RE GONNA GET SENT HOME.'

Sean wrote back, 'DON'T WORRY. HE WONT SEND ME HOME.'

Grant looked at him confused. 'HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?'

`TRUST ME. I KNOW.'


After class was dismissed the boys made their way to the locker room to
change for training.  Once they were dressed they made their way to the
training field.

"Johnston, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Sean and Grant heard a voice
ask from behind.

They turned around and it was Tim. Tim was a big dude, a linebacker,
six-feet-tall and at least 250 lbs. The kid was cute with a little pug nose
and thick blonde hair, cut in a high and tight with messy longer hair on
top. If he didn't know him, Grant would assume he was a marine.

Sean spun around. "What do you want?" Sean asked gruffly.

"You're going to get us all in trouble, asshole." Tim pointed a thick
finger at Sean's chest.

Sean stepped closer to the taller guy. "How's that, fuck-face?"

Tim's face turned red. "We're supposed to be a team. Because of your
fucking attitude and constantly challenging the coaches, you're going to
get kicked out."

"So, what the fuck is it to you?" Sean asked as he folded his muscular arms
over his big chest.

"Because, you get kicked out, we get back home and the coach is going to
take it out on all of us. I'm not going to get punished; running laps,
going to extra practices and getting fucked over because of you, pretty
boy. Think of someone other than yourself for once."

Sean blinked when Tim called him `pretty boy.' He'd never been called that
before by a team mate. He didn't expect to hear it outside of a sexual romp
with a hot dude. Not even his girlfriend called him that. He knew he was
pretty but he got a tingle hearing it from just some regular guy who wasn't
fucking him.

Grant stepped up next to Sean with his arms folded over his chest. "Tim,
it's all good. Sean's not going to do anything to get us in trouble."

Tim looked at Grant, smirked and then looked back to Sean. "Johnston, you
need your boyfriend to defend you? How cute."

Sean lurched forward but Grant held him back. "What did you just say, you,
fat fuck?"

Tim smirked again, shaking his head.

"You know it's funny. Two guys who hated each other's guts a week ago are
now best buddies all a sudden. Don't think we all haven't noticed that you
two are always disappearing after practice and then coming back late at
night or the next morning. And you've been hanging with trainers and
fratboys?  I guess you pretty boys all have to stick together, right?"

Grant clenched his fists. "Check yourself, Tim. You don't want to make
stupid accusations you can't fucking back up. Besides, I wonder why you're
keeping such close tabs on us `pretty boys.' You almost sound like a
jealous girlfriend."

Now Grant sneered at the big guy, cocky and proud.

"Oh please, princess. You and pretty boy here better watch
yourselves. There's something going on here. I don't know what it is but
you two just watch your backs."

Fuck, there was that "princess" shit again. That was really starting to
annoy him. Now it was Grant's turn to blink when he heard that. Like Sean,
he never expected to hear another dude other than Mark call him `princess'
while his dick was root-deep in his ass.

"Fuck you." Sean said as Grant turned him around, grabbed his arm and led
him away from the huge linebacker.

"Not worth it." Grant said as he led him away.

When they were out of ear-shot Sean yanked his arm out of Grant's grip.

"Why the fuck did you stop me from beating the shit out of that fucker?"

"Because you, dumbass. You can't afford to do that. You're going to fuck up
your shot at getting a fucking scholarship all because you can't keep your
temper in check. You have to stop beating up every dude that crosses
you. You have nothing to prove. You're going to self-destruct. Out of all
the guys on this team, besides me," Grant smiled but he knew it was true,
"you deserve a scholarship. You're one of the best athletes I've seen."

"Fuck you, Grant. I've seen you get into fights but the difference is that
everyone looks the other way when you do it. You've always had everything
given to you just based on your looks alone. You're the fucking golden
boy." He jabbed an index finger into Grant's chest. "Don't tell me I'm
going to self-destruct. You have no room to talk. You have a bad attitude
too and I've seen you throw down several times."

"Everyone looks the other way because I'm good at what I do and I don't
give them a reason to call me out. But I also know that I can charm the
shit out of people. That's how I get out of shit. When I get into fights
it's because they deserved it. Not because I felt like it. You're
constantly provoking dudes to hit you. What the fuck is it with you?"

"Dude, you don't know me. You just wait. You're going to have to start
stepping it up like I am.

"Stepping up? What's that mean?" Grant was confused.

Sean was quiet. His eyes darted around looking anywhere but at Grant. He
looked ashamed, confused. He didn't want to talk about it. Then, Grant
realized something what he was talking about.

"Wait. All this tough-guy shit is just a front to throw people off so they
won't suspect your into dudes?"

Sean was still silent. His body was tense. He looked around again and then
looked down at the ground.

"You know better than I do what would happen if anyone found out about me,
about you, about what we do. Once people find out we're both a couple of
fags, we're done for. No Scholarships. No shot at the pros. To make things
worse," Sean chuckled, "we're not even tops. Could you imagine if we got
caught and they found out both of us are just a couple of cock-sucking
power bottoms?"

"Listen. I'm new to this. I don't pretend to know what the fuck would
happen, if anything will happen at all, mainly because I would beat the
shit out of anyone who tried to fuck with me. All I know is that you're an
amazing fucking athlete. You're fucking hot. You're not stupid, you just
make bad decisions. You have everything going for you. I don't pretend to
be the nicest guy in the world but I know that I'm not alone. I got your
back and we can help each other through this. Look at us. No one is ever
going to suspect that we're fucking around with dudes. Don't give them an
opportunity to suspect. Stop drawing attention to yourself. The more you
do, the more people are going to start wondering why you're a hot-head. All
it takes is some dumbass to start prying and then you're caught."

Sean listened.  His body had relaxed. He was now looking into Grant's eyes.

He let out a huge sigh. "You're not always going to be right all the time,
are you? That would suck knowing my boyfriend is a no-it-all." Sean smiled.

Grant blinked. "So... we're boyfriends?" Grant felt a twinge in his gut.

Sean smiled slightly. "I dunno. I guess I thought after that orgy we were
headed that way. I mean, if you want to."

Grant smiled. "I would be lying if I said I haven't thought about it. I
thought it was just a drug-induced thing you were talking about that
night."

"Nah, man." Sean was quiet and seemed almost vulnerable. "Listen,
dude. I've never done this before and I'm not good at expressing my
feelings about this shit. Just take it for what it is because I've never
had these feelings for another dude before."

"Oh..kay... but you know we are both bottoms. Power bottoms as you put
it. How is that going to work?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out. We'll just have to hook up with
tops. Sex will be something that we share with each other not something we
do to each other... for now.

"For now?"

"Dude...Babe, go with it. We'll take it as it comes. I trust you won't be
disappointed."

Grant laughed. He put a hand on Sean's shoulder. "No more picking fights,
dude, ok?"

"Ok, unless the dude deserves it."

"Of course! Then you better beat the shit out of them... you sexy fuck."
Grant whispered that last word.

Sean looked around to make sure no one was listening.

Sean lowered his voice. "Later I want to hear all about you with Ford and
Joe. Fucking makes me hard thinking about it, you hot fuck."

Grant laughed. "Trust me, I will tell you every detail. Oh and Sean, you're
wearing tights, don't bone up just yet."

"I want to kiss you right now," Sean said.

Grant laughed. They slapped each other on the shoulder and jogged off to
their training areas.


Assistant Coach Trey Turner returned to his office after his safety class
he just taught.  He closed the door, drew the blinds, turned the lights out
and fell back onto the couch in the corner of his office. He lay with his
arms behind his neck, relaxed but really, really horny.

`Fuck that kid pisses me off and turns me on at the same time,' he thought
to himself about Sean Johnston.

 Trey pulled an arm from behind his head and rested it on the bulge in his
tight shorts. His thoughts racing though his head.

`I hate cocky fucks like him. I just want to punch him in the
throat. Problem is that he's a fucking great athlete. Little shit is prime
college ball stock. If he were a third rate athlete, I would just ignore
the kid. Well, maybe I wouldn't IGNORE him. The dude as an ass for
days. Light mocha skin, glowing exotic honey brown eyes and a body any
fitness model would die for. Maybe a quick fuck and then kick him to the
curb but not when he's a top rate athlete.'

No, he needed to dominate this shithead and take him down a few rungs.

"He has attitude and swagger like he's an alpha which I like. Taking down
an alpha will be hot. Kid's not stupid, he knows I like his attitude even
when I say I don't. He knows I think it's hot. This kid knows what he's
fucking do all right. His buddy is just as hot him but Sean has something
about him that makes my dick hard."

Trey was now tugging on his cock through the tight shorts. He was rock hard
and the more he thought about Sean Johnston, he squeezed harder until he
couldn't take it anymore. He slipped his hand down his shorts and gripped
his cock. He slid down the waistband with the other hand and brought his
cock out into the open. It stuck straight up as he stroked it, wiping his
thumb across the head, pre-cum sticky on this finger.

Trey considered himself bi. He's a player for sure. With him, it was true
about what they say about being bisexual: You never go home lonely on a
Saturday night. If he couldn't get laid with a chic, he would flip a switch
and hook up with a guy.  He liked hooking up with dudes more than girls. It
was so much easier with a dude than with a chic. Girls always want to play
games with your head. With guys, all you have to do it make eye contact,
walk right up and say, "Wanna fuck?" Boom. Done.

He's never had a loss for ample ass and cock. He had a few fuck buddies
around town. Some married, some with girlfriends, some single but in the
closet and then just really hot gay dudes. The hottest thing about Trey is
that he's not a total top. He actually likes getting fucked. Trey is a big
guy that gives off a top vibe. Guys are always surprised when they find out
he bottoms. He's been fucked on video and he's seen how hot he looks on his
back, legs up and getting plowed by some muscular athletic guy. Big or
small he doesn't care as long as they are masculine and hot as
fuck. Getting to bottom doesn't happen very often so his topping skills are
on point.

Dudes like Sean Johnston don't come around that often so he likes to seize
the moment and get it while he can. He actually was having thoughts of Sean
slamming him up against the wall and fucking the shit out of him, taking
his aggression out on his ass.  It's probably the first time he has had a
thought like that about someone like Sean. Whatever position he would be,
it didn't matter. He wanted a piece of Sean Johnston.

He couldn't wait for these high school football camps. Every year since he
started coaching he always scored at least once with a hot, tight,
muscular, young athlete. Being the older one he was good at manipulating
any guy into a romp in the hay.  It didn't take much because he always knew
which ones were hot for his cock but Sean, Sean was a mystery. He gave off
an alpha vibe that felt sexual but then it could be he's just a cocky
asshole. Now he knows for sure Sean is ready to start something up.

Trey stroked his thick cock, pre-cum flowing over his fingers. He kept
picturing Sean in those hot training tights, second-skin shirt, his abs
showing through, his muscles flexing while he ran up and down the field
running drills, catching the ball as he powered ahead at full speed. Sean
bends over to tie his shoe, that beautiful muscular boulder-like ass in the
air and stretching the tights to their max. Oh man, how he'd like to plug
that ass with his dick using the pre-cum as lube. Fucking the athlete hard
and long, making Sean's head bob up and down as he is power fucked from
behind. Hearing Sean's voice moan and groan. Then he would unload his thick
cum into the hot ass of the cocky little fuck.

He couldn't take it anymore. Trey's dick erupted and he shot a load high
into the air, onto the wall and it splattered back down onto his chest and
his own face. He pumped his cock over and over as he came to get the most
out of the erotic orgasm.

He looked down at his shirt. "Damn. All over my shirt... I hate that kid."
He said out loud as he stood up and went into his private bathroom to clean
up. Luckily he had a whole closet full of more work polos, shorts and
workout gear.

He was still horned up. He really needed to fuck something. He decided
tonight he would go find some ass. He knew a few places he could go and
hook up. First though, he was going to work out, get a nice pump and then
hit a bar.


The whole day was stressful. There were a ton of people hanging out on the
sidelines today watching training. Grant was constantly looking over to the
recruiters to see if any were watching him. It was distracting him. There
were more than a few hot older guys watching them train. Sure, they were
older but damn were they in shape, masculine, authoritative. One was his
type completely. Tall, built like a brick wall, handsome as fuck. His polo
shirt was tight and his dress pants were snug and they could not hide the
muscular thighs and ass. He noticed the guy had a wedding band on. So much
for that. He could really picture himself with his legs on that dude's
shoulders. Anyway, he knew they were looking at seniors but he was
competitive and he thought it wanted to get the attention of at least one
of them.

"Hey!" Grant heard right before a football beamed him in the head. He spun
around holding his head where the ball had hit.

"FUCK!" He yelled.

It was Rob who threw it. Perfect spiral right into Grant's pretty head.

"What the fuck, Woods?!"

"What the fuck, man? That fucking hurt." Grant saw red and took off in a
sprint heading straight to Rob. Now this guy fucking deserved to get hit.

Rob ran forward too and they both clashed, crashing against each
other. Each grabbing the other's shirt in clenched fists.

Rob pulled Grant in close. "What is your problem today? Stop paying
attention to the daddy's on the sidelines and pay attention to the ball!"

"I am paying attention!" He yelled. Then he lowered his voice. "Don't think
because you put your dick in me that I won't fuck your shit up!"

They were both silent, each one staring into the eyes of the other,
challenging the other to throw the first punch.

Rob lowered his tone to almost a whisper. "You stupid fuck. You are
distracted. What's wrong? You looking for your next fuck? Not enough cum in
that slutty ass of yours?"

Grant let go of Rob and stepped back. "You would know. You worried I'm
gonna find a better fuck than you are? Besides, what's it to you? You have
your little marine girlfriend."

Rob's face turned red.

"Mason is none of your fucking business. Listen to me. All those people
over there are trying to find the best athletes. You're only sixteen but
they will follow your high school football career and snap you up your
senior year. You're training like shit today. I'm trying to help you. Now,
Fix. Your. Shit."

"Just don't ever do that again. I'm serious. I will fuck you up."

Rob smiled and got in his face. "Mmm, I like this Grant. Tough and mean."
Rob looked around to see guys watching them from a distance, trying to
figure out what was going down. "All these guys are watching you right now,
tough guy. It's hot. Know why? It's hot because they see a big strapping
jock, tough lady's man showing off his big muscles and his mean ole face."

"What's your point?" Grant asked through clenched teeth.

"My point is, what they see is a lie and I know the truth. If they only
knew that big tough Grant is really a little bitch who loves to have his
big ass fucked. It's hot. I love having power over a guy like you. I like
knowing that I know something about you that they don't. I like knowing
that right now you're getting boned from the way I'm talking to you." Rob
looked down at Grant's crotch which indeed was a little more pronounced
than before and then he smiled.

 He continued, "I like knowing that all I have to do is say the word, right
now, and you'd follow me like a little lost puppy back to my place, throw
those beautiful legs in the air and beg me to fuck you."

Grant's demeanor had now changed. He didn't feel so tall anymore. He felt
small and weak. Rob was right. He probably would do exactly what he just
said and follow him anywhere as long as it meant getting that cock in his
ass. He folded his arms over his chest and looked down at the ground. His
submissive side was taking over.

Rob gave him a pat on the shoulder. "See? You know what I'm saying is
true. Now, you start playing like the athlete I know you are. You're the
best player on this field.  Go out there and show those recruiter fucks
what you've got. There are already a few recruiters noticing you. Trust me,
you will be set in a couple of years and be able to go to the school of
your choice."

Grant realized that Rob was right. Rob had a look of sincerity in his eyes,
like he really did care about Grant. "Oh and about Mason, don't ever talk
shit about him. I won't have to fuck you up because he would do it for
me. Besides, I think your jealous."

Grant rolled his eyes. "Dude. Fuck off."

Rob chuckled. "He football boy, I got me a fucking handsome, hot as shit
marine and I'm banging his shit almost every night. That used to be
you. I'm the best you'll ever have, pretty boy. Mason knows it and you know
it."

Grant looked down at the ground and then over Rob's shoulder, no eye
contact. Rob was right, as usual.  He wasn't going to fight it. He liked
Rob being right, it means he's superior and a better man. Fuck, that turns
Grant on.

"We good?" Asked Rob with a hand on Grant's shoulder.

Grant looked up. "Yeah. All good." He said quietly as if he were just
disciplined by his dad.

"Excellent. Now find Jack and run some drills. If you're a good boy, maybe
I will get that pretty jock butt filled with some premium jock cock later
this afternoon."

Grant's ears perked, he swallowed hard. "Really? You're gonna fuck me?" He
asked excited.

Rob smiled. "I didn't say it would be my cock. I'm hanging with Mason
later. By hanging I mean I'll be drilling that boy a new hole." Grant
rolled his eyes again.

"Who? Mark? Ford?" Grant was giddy.

Rob laughed. "Damn, boy! You ARE a slut, aren't you? No. I have someone
else who would like to meet you."

"Oh?  Who?" Grant was like a little kid in a candy store.

"You'll see, you'll see. Calm down, handsome. Just make sure you play your
fucking heart out today and you'll have your legs up on some hot guy's big
shoulders by evening."

Grant smiled. "Fuck, yeah." He whispered loudly.

Grant trained that hardest he has ever trained. He felt a little odd that
his motivation was not competition but rather him getting a hot dude
between his legs and screwing his brains out. I guess if that's what makes
him play better, than that was that.


Mason had just got off duty, met Tyler and headed to the gym.

"Dude, you seeing Rob tonight?" asked Tyler.

"Yeah. Waiting for him to text."

"Awww isn't that cute? Sergeant Lee's got a boyfriend." Tyler teased.

"Why don't you say that a little louder, asshole." Mason whispered after
slugging Tyler in the arm.

"Whatever. I don't want to talk about it." Mason checked his phone again.

"Why not?" Tyler asked while rolling his eyes. "I'm the only one you can
talk to around here."

"I don't know what to say. It's confusing."

"What's so confusing? You're getting fucked by a really hot guy."

"I know that, dumbass. This is not like me. I don't know what to think of
myself."

"Dude, you're thinking about this way too much. You're a hot dude who likes
to fuck other hot dudes. Now you're the one getting fucked. Doesn't make
you less of a man."

"Doesn't it?"

"Mason, I get dicked all the time and I don't consider myself less than a
man. I like dick, plain and simple."

"Yeah but you're not getting fucked by Rob. He has this hold over me that I
can't break." Mason looked around, they were alone. "I never knew having a
dick in my ass could feel so amazing. He has a way of making me
feel... special, like I'm the only guy on the planet. Dude, he fucks the
cum out of me every single time, every time. I don't even have to touch
myself."

"And that makes you feel like less of a man?"

"No... Yes... I don't know. I just have never thought of myself as
gay. I've always been with chics and always the top with dudes. I've never
even thought of being in this position. It was never an option for me. I'm
the top. I'm the man. You're the bottom then you're the woman."

"Dude, that's fucked up. You need to drop your ego. I don't know alot of
dudes that can take a fuck like Rob gives. Remember I was there in the room
when he took your cherry. In my book, you're a real man if you can take a
big cock in the ass. It's painful and most dudes would bitch and cry but
you don't dude. You took him like a fucking champ."

"Yeah, I guess. That shit was pretty painful at first."

The walked in silence for a few seconds.

"Do you think that it's just him that can make me feel this way? Or do you
think other dudes can fuck me like that and make me cum without touching
myself?"

"All I know is that I've been fucked many times and they are all
different. I've had incredible fucks and then I've had lame-ass fucks. You
never know until your legs are up waiting for that cock to punch thru. I
knew Rob would be amazing. He has a presence that just says he knows how to
fuck."

"Hmm. I guess that's true. He was fucking hypnotic or something. I just
know those two guys from the football team were taking alot of dick at the
party and they seemed to like all of them."

Tyler grabbed his shoulder and they stopped.

"Dude, are you considering playing around with other dudes, bottoming I
mean?"

"I dunno. Yeah? I mean Rob is great but is he all there is? I really,
really like him. But I know I also like getting fucked. Maybe we
should... nah, never mind."

"No, what? Tell me."

"I dunno, maybe we should... you know... go somewhere...and pick up a
couple dudes and see if I like it with guys other than Rob."

Tyler smiled and then laughed in glee.

"Dude, fuck yeah we should. I've always dreamt of the day you and I could
bottom together like a couple of fucking whores, Of course, I also wanted
you to fuck me but bottoming with you is just as hot."

Mason laughed. "Dude, I always knew you wanted me to fuck you. You're way
too obvious.  I liked keeping you hanging. It made you top like a mother
fucker whenever we hooked up with guys. It was hot watching you bone a dude
like your life depended on it."

"You're an asshole. I hope you get your double dicked by two huge black
guys." Tyler laughed.

"Oh you would like that, wouldn't ya?"

"Alright dude, I know of some places we can go get some dick. If you're
going to go with me to get some bone then you have to play it my way."

"What's the mean?"

"It means being slutty, dude. Slutty like a bitch."

Mason thought about it for a second. He wanted to get fucked in the worst
way but he also wanted to hang with Rob. Then he thought about if Rob would
really mind that much. Besides, Rob was the king of man-whores. Man-Whore
might be his middle name.

"Fuck it. Let's do it."

"Fuck Yeah! Let's go get pumped and then we go shake our tails. There's
dick out there waiting for us big guy."

Mason's phone chirped. It was a text from Rob. He responded telling him he
couldn't make it tonight. He slipped the phone into his gym bag and
proceeded to the base gym.



Trey entered the bar and stepped up to the bar. This was a bar frequented
by military since it's so close to the Marine base. He had scored here
before and even though it was the middle of the week he knew there was
always a good crowd at this bar. Guys turned and looked at him as he stood
at the bar ordering a beer. How could one not stare at this guy. Trey,
wearing a tight t-shirt with his college alma mater emblazoned on the
chest. His skinny jeans seemed like they were painted on his big, muscular
thighs and his bulbous ass. He knew skinny jeans weren't meant for a guy
his size, they would be too tight... and that's why he wore them.  The
cuffs of his jeans were stretched over a pair of black leather boots that
had a thick heel with heavy tread. Trey looked like someone not to fuck
with. His arms couldn't be contained in the short sleeves of the too small
t-shirt. His traps made the collar stretch to accommodate the shoulders. He
looked beyond hot and he knew it.

"Hey, Trey," the bartender shook his hand.

"Sup, Bobby?" Trey asked in a low monotone voice, eyes down, still not too
comfortable coming into a gay bar so close to the university but the
bartender knew him enough to say hi.

"What will it be?"

"Hefferweisen."

"Got it."

The cute muscular twink handed him the beer, his tattooed arm reaching
across the bar and squeezing Trey's bicep.

"Damn, Trey. You're like fucking granite."

Trey smiled at the compliment. "Thanks." He responded quietly.

Trey turned sideways to the bar, took a drink of his beer and scanned the
room for tonight's conquest.

"So anything good tonight Bobby?"

"You know, Trey. It's touch and go during the week but tonight is looking
up."

Trey scanned the room, avoiding the less attractive guys and looming his
gaze on the hot ones. He loved a good marine. They were either very
dominating or very submissive. It was always a toss-up.

He spotted two marines in the corner throwing darts. Both cute, muscular,
high and tight cuts, big arms and tight waists. One was dark blonde and
other brunette.

"Hey, Bobby. What's up with the two throwing darts?"

Bobby looked over to the corner. "Oh yeah, those two. The light haired one
comes in frequently, name's Tyler. The dark haired one, think his name is
Mason only comes in sometimes but always with his buddy. The Tyler kid is a
fucking hot little slut. His buddy is pretty quiet, likes to stay in the
background and observe. When he sees something he likes, he pretty much
takes it and cuts out with or without his buddy."

"Huh. Mason, you say?"

"Yeah, the dark haired pretty boy. I think he's half Asian. It's a good
mix, looks good on him."

"Damn, he's beautiful. Jesus, that ass. Fuck."

"Oh yeah, dude. Prime."

"Give me a pitcher of Bud and three glasses."

"Sure thing."

Bobby handed him the pitcher and three glasses.

"Good luck, handsome."

Trey laughed. "I don't need luck. He will though. I'm going to destroy that
ass."

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