Date: Wed, 3 Oct 2001 16:48:21 -0700 (PDT)
From: Marc <Rim4you@webtv.net>
Subject: Jock Fever (Raunch, Scat)

Disclaimer:

The following story contains graphic, sexual content that some readers
may find objectionable.  Therefore, if scenes pertaining to raunch and
scat are offensive to you or if you are under the age of eighteen, STOP
HERE!

Jock Fever
by Rim4you

Prologue

From the outside looking in, it would appear that Mike Dawson had the
perfect life.  He had a wife and two kids that were devoted to him, not
to mention his position as head coach for the local high school football
team.  He was actively involved in his community and for all intent and
purposes, presented himself as the ideal family man.  A true pillar of
society.

But lurking beneath the surface was a side of him that he kept in
constant check. He realised that if this part of him became the subject
of town gossip, he'd fall from grace in the eyes of his family and his
community.

At thirty-two, Mike Dawson was living the american dream:  mortgaged up
to his eyeballs and in debt to Visa and Mastercard.  He needed some
escape.  Something that would take his mind off of his problems.

Chapter 1

>From behind his desk, looking through the plate glass window, Mike had a
commanding view of the lockeroom, one level beneath him.  From his
vantage point, Mike could watch, privately, his brood of young men as
they paraded around in all states of dress and undress.

On many occassions he and his assistant coach, Tim Banks, who everyone
knew to be gay and who was Mike's best friend, would gawk at the guys in
their jockstraps as they ran around the lockeroom snapping towels
against unwary butts.

"That Tom Jacobs sure has a nice ass!"  Tim said, with a whistle.

"He's the best tight end I have on the squad," Mike replied.

"Well I sure as hell would like to find out how tight his end is!"  

"Keep your bull in the barn, Tim!  Or get your ass down there and take a
cold shower!"  Mike said, laughing.

"Fuck the shower, man!  Just have those guys sit their sweaty butts on
my face!"

"Strange.  You're real strange, Tim!"

"You've hung around me long enough, Mike.  Don't tell me you haven't at
least entertained the thought?"

Tim was right.  Mike had entertained the thought.  And often.  He knew,
ever since he was a teenager, that he had an attraction for guys.  He
often grappled with why he went ahead and got married and didn't remain
single like Tim, who faced his sexuality head on.

Mike admired Tim for that.  Realising that he was gay, Tim accepted
himself and in so doing was accepted by all who knew him.  Tim was Tim.
Plain and simple.  He didn't have to live in the shadows like Mike.

"Mmmmmm!  Mmmmmm!"  Tim hummed. "Now I know that kid's got some sweet
booty!"

"After the hard practice I just put him through it'd be more like smelly
and funky, Tim."

"Exactly!  Mmmmmm!  Mmmmmm!"

"Like I said, Tim.  You're strange."

Chapter 2

Ever since Tim made his comments regarding Tom Jacobs, Mike couldn't get
Tom out of his mind.  The more he looked at the young man, whose body
resembled a classic greek sculpture, the more Mike began to realise he
was being sexually charged by him.

'Tim's right,' Mike found himself thinking, 'that kid does have a nice
ass!  And I wonder what it would be like to sniff it?  To sink my cock
up his tight end?'

It was thoughts like these that began to create almost an obsession for
one of his star jocks.  He had heard rumors that Tom was gay.  But
that's all they were.  Rumors.

Mike began finding himself in the empty lockeroom, standing in front of
Tom's locker.  Groping himself, he'd place his nose to the air slats in
the locker and take deep breaths of the musky aroma coming from Tom's
locker.

On one occassion, Mike found that Tom had forgotten to lock his locker.
Looking around as if guilty, yet driven by the throbbing of his dick,
Mike opened Tom's locker.  Hanging from a hook was Tom's jockstrap.  It
was heavily soiled as if Tom hadn't bothered to have it washed in weeks.
The pouch was a yellowish-beige in color and where the straps joined at
the base of the pouch, it was almost brown.

A strong, heady aroma drew Mike towards Tom's jockstrap.  Yanking the
front of his gym shorts down, Mike freed his cock and began stroking it
as he placed his face close to the strap and sniffed.  The funky, musky
scent aroused Mike.  His cock began to leak pre-cum as he quickend the
pace of his masturbating.  The odor curling up his nostrils, from the
jockstrap and other gear Tom had in his locker, turned Mike on.

Reaching into the locker, Mike retreived the strap.  Leaning against the
cool metal of the lockers, Mike pressed Tom's dirty pouch to his face.
The aroma sent shockwaves throughout Mike's body.  Opening his mouth,
Mike popped the funky pouch in and began to suck.  The stink and the
combination of the juices contained in the pouch, tangy flavors, caused
Mike to moan out loud.  

Sniffing and sucking on the jockstrap, Mike felt his knees quaking.
With a shudder he slid down to a squatting position.  His hand flew up
and down his rock hard dick.  His balls bounced.

Mike could feel his spunk churning.  His cock was dripping profusely
now.  His balls were drawing up and tightening and he knew he was on the
verge of shooting his wad.  

With a last bit of self control, Mike yanked the strap from his mouth
and wrapped it around his cock.  Wanking his meat furiously, Mike
slammed his back against the locker and let out a deep sigh as he shot
ropes of thick, creamy cum into Tom's jockstrap.

'Fuck!  Fuck!'  Mike gasped.  His voice echoed in the empty lockeroom.

His orgasm complete, Mike stood up and hung the jockstrap back on its
hook.  He chuckled with the thought that the next time Tom would wear
his jockstrap, there would be a little something extra in it.  Mike
wondered if Tom would notice the added layer of crust?

Mike closed the locker and began heading towards his office.  For the
moment he was satiated.

"Hey Coach!"  Tom's cheerful greeting wrung out, almost booming.

"Uh ... Tom!  Hello!"  Mike replied, startled.

"Sorry if I startled you.  I didn't know you were in here."

"Yeah!  You kinda did there, buddy.  Uh ... why aren't you out on a date
or something?  It's Friday evening.  You should be out and about."

"I forgot I hadn't locked my locker and since I was in the neighborhood
and me and some of the guys were gonna shoot some hoops, I thought I'd
swing by the lockeroom.  It is okay, Coach?"

"Yeah ... uh ... sure, Tom.  Go right ahead."

Mike could feel himself breaking out in a sweat.  If Tom had been only
moments earlier how would he have explained himself?  Standing there
jacking on his dick with Tom's strap in his mouth?

"You okay, Coach?"  Tom asked.  "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Uh ... yeah!  Yeah, I'm okay.  If you'll excuse me, Tom."

"Catch ya later, Coach."

Mike made a mad dash to his office.  Closing the door behind him, he
leaned against it and let out a sigh of relief.

'Jesus!  That was close!'  Mike muttered, to himself.

Sitting at his desk trying to concentrate on his paper work, Mike could
still smell the aroma of Tom's strap in his nose.  His cock tingled
again and he reached down to give it a couple of squeezes.  He wondered
what it would have been like had Tom happened upon him? 

'Fuck!'  Tom sighed, thumping his pencil on the desk.  'I can't get
anything done here!'

Locking the office door, Mike headed down the stairs.  As was his
practice before going home for the day, Mike made a quick check of the
lockeroom.  It never failed that one of the guys would drop something
and Mike would pick it up and toss it in the lost and found box in his
office.

As Mike rounded the corner leading to the stalls of toilets, something
on the floor caught his attention.  Upon closer inspection, Mike saw it
to be a jockstrap.  He leaned over and picked it up.  Somehow it looked
familiar.  It was dirty.  Real dirty and it reeked.  Running the pouch
through his fingertips he felt the slime.  Bringing it up to his nose he
sniffed it.  It was the scent of cum and it was still fresh.  Mike
examined the strap and came to the conclusion that it was Tom's.  But
how did it get here?

The familiar, funky aroma permeating from the strap gave Mike another
boner.  Clutching the jockstrap, Mike began walking slowly down the line
of stalls.  Midway down the stalls, his footsteps echoing in the empty
room, Mike detected a sound.  A sound that he recognized.  The familiar
sound of flesh contacting flesh.  The sound of jacking off, accompanied
by soft, raspy moans.

As Mike approached the last stall, he noticed that the door was wide
open, unlike the others which were slightly ajar.
Mike could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he clutched the damp
jockstrap in his hand even tighter.

"Thanks, Coach!"  A husky voice, whispered.

"For what?"  Mike replied, nervously.

"For spunking my jockstrap, man!  I'm jacking off with your cum, Coach!
I got a thick wad of your spooge on the head of my cock.  Wanna lick it
off, Coach?"

"Tom!"  Mike gasped, taking a step forward and framing himself in the
stall door.

Seated on the toilet with his muscular legs spread wide, his broad
shoulders resting against the tiles of the back wall of the stall, was
Tom.  He was completely naked.  His clothes lying in a crumpled heap
next to the toilet.

Mike took a deep breath and swallowed, trying hard to conceal the lust
burning within him and the hardon tenting his gym shorts.

In one full swoop, Mike took in the object of his desire.  He almost
cringed at the thought that, although he had seen Tom naked on many
occasions before, now Tom appeared to be more naked than ever.  Now, he
wasn't simply Mike's prized tight end.  Rather, now he was a lusting
jock in heat as evidenced from his rock hard cock which jutted straight
out from between his legs, long, thick and veiny and crowned with a
bulbous, mushroom head, the tip of which was coated with a creamy wad of
cum.  Mike's own cum, if he were to take Tom's word.

The kid seemed to know exactly what he was doing too.  Peering out from
his dreamy blue eyes, Tom pursed his lips and slowly ran his hand over
his chisled, smoothe chest and trailed it over his taut stomach through
his pubic hairs, down over his low hanging balls and cooed as he slipped
a finger into his ass trench.

"I didn't shower after practice, Coach!"  Tom whispered, in a deep,
seductive voice.  

The motions of Tom's hand, under his balls, told Mike that Tom was
fingering his asshole.

"And I know I smell ripe!"  Tom purred, raising his fingers to under his
nose and taking a deep whiff.  "Wanna sniff, Coach?  It's real stink and
dirty."

Mike was beside himself with craving for this young, seductive jock.
Tom was certainly playing with a full deck and had the cards stacked in
his favor.  So Mike surmised.

"I'm not a jerk, Coach."  Tom said, rubbing the cum around on the head
of his dick.

"I know you're not, Tom."  Mike replied, squeezing the jockstrap he held
in his hand even tighter.

"I know what's at stake here.  I'm seventeen and you're ..."

"Thirty-two, Tom."  Mike stammered.

"I love older guys!"  Tom whispered, gliding his hand up and down his
shaft.  "And like they say."

"What's that?"

"'Don't ask.  Don't tell.'  My lips are sealed.  That is ..."

Tom raised his legs and planted his feet squarely on either wall beside
him, revealing his hairy, asscrack and his rosey, puckering asshole.

"I ... uh ..."  Mike stuttered, trying harder and harder to keep his
composure.

"Unless you'd care to take the plunge and loosen up my lips!"

'Damn!'  Mike screamed, to himself.  'This kid is more seductive than my
wife!  I can't hold out much longer.  He's got me wrapped around his
finger and he know it too!'

Tom grabbed his dick at the base and pointed his cock straight up.  

"Maybe this will change your mind, Coach!" 

Pursing his lips and letting out a soft sigh, Tom let loose a fountain
of piss.  The yellow stream soared into the air and splashed onto Tom's
stomach.  

Mike watched, mesmerized.  His cock jerked in his gym shorts and showed
its approval by oozing and creating a wet spot to form on the front of
his shorts.  Fixated, his breaths becoming more and more rapid, Mike
watched as Tom's piss rained down, saturating his pubic hair and ran
down over his balls and splashed into the water of the toilet bowl.  The
splish-spashing sound echoed in the room.  

Pointing his cock towards Mike, Tom's piss stream arched forward and
splashed on Mike's sneakers.  It flowed onto the tiled floor and
collected in a yellow pool at Mike's feet.

Mike didn't flinch.  As Tom snapped his cock back, directing his piss
stream into his open mouth, Mike yielded to his burning lust.  Gone, at
least for the moment, were thoughts of his wife, kids, his job or the
pillar that the community had placed him on.  Now there was only lust
welling up inside of him and an aching throb between his legs.  An ache
that needed to be satisfied.  An itch that needed to be scratched.

"Take off your clothes, Coach!"  Tom hissed, piss dripping from the
corners of his mouth, as his cock spat the last spurts of his golden
juice.

Mike prided himself that ever since his days as a Marine Corps drill
instructer, he paid particular attention to his physical shape.  He
still made heads turn whenever he was out and about.  Not only did the
women gawk, but the men too.  It was from the latter that Mike derived
the most satisfaction.

Slowly, almost methodically, Mike began to strip.  As Tom had so
successfully seduced him, so too, he thought, he'd seduce Tom in a
manner that only experince brought with it.  Although Mike had to admit
that Tom was skillfully crafting the art of seduction.

Mike locked his eyes onto Tom's, gazing deeply into the young man's pair
of baby blues.  Slowly, Mike raised the jockstrap he clutched in his
hand to his face.

"Fucking ... jock ... stink!"  Mike whispered, enunciating each word
clearly as he sniffed Tom's jockstrap deeply.

Without taking his eyes off of Tom, Mike slowly put the filthy strap
into his mouth.

"Fuck yeah, Coach!"  Tom gasped.  "Taste your cum outta my crusty
jockstrap!"

As Mike sucked on the strap, grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt, he
slowly began pulling it up and over his head.  With his arm raised and
the t-shirt dangling from his fingers, Mike cocked his head sideways,
towards his armpit and took a deep whiff.

"Yeah!  Smell your armpit, Coach!"  Tom exclaimed.

Streatching his fingers, Mike let his t-shirt fall into the puddle of
piss at his feet.

"Aw fuck!"  Tom sighed.  "Fucking hairy chest!"

"I'm fucking hairy all over," Mike whispered, letting the jockstrap fall
from his mouth to join the t-shirt in the pool of piss.

Lowering his arm, Mike swirled his fingers through the mat of hair on
his sculpted chest, pausing to squeeze his quarter sized nipples and tug
on the ring which pierced his left tit.

"is this what you want, fucker?"  Mike asked, with a sigh, hooking his
fingers into the elastic waistband of his black gym shorts and slowly
pulling them down over his hairy, muscular thighs.  Down to his kness
until they slid, of their own accord, over his calves onto his sneakers.

"Fuck!"  Tom gasped.

"You want this big cock, don't you, Tom?"  Mike practically moaned.
Stepping out of his shorts, Mike spread his legs wide.  His hefty balls
swung freely between his legs.  Running his fingers through his dense
forest of pubic hair, Mike curled his fingers around his pride and joy.
His thick, veiny, uncut, eleven inches of throbbing, dripping manhood.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"  Tom sighed, seemingly clenching his asscheeks
together.  "That's no cock!  That's a weapon!"

"Thinking twice about having me loosening up that shithole of yours,
Tom?  Huh, buddy!"  Mike said, pulling back his foreskin to reveal his
wet, engourged cockhead.

"I want that baseball bat up my ass, Coach!"  Tom sighed, squirming on
the toilet.

"This?"  Mike asked, pointing to his dick.  "You want my cock, Tom?  Or
do you need my cock?"

"Yeah!  I want it, Coach.  I need it in my mouth and up my stinky
asshole!"

"Yeah?  Yeah, motherfucker?"  Mike hissed, reaching down with one hand
and tugging on his balls while with the other he stroked his dick.  "You
need this cock, jockboy?  Then come and get it, stud!  Show me how much
you want my big cock!  On your fucking knees, nasty boy!
Crawl.  Crawl to your Coach, fucker!  Lick your way to my big cock!
Show me what a nasty stud you really are!"

Tom lowered his legs to the floor.  Scooting off of the toilet, he knelt
beside it.  Cocking his head towards Mike, he grinned wickedly.
Lowering his head, Tom began to lick the rim of the bowl.  

"Fucking nasty boy!"  Mike moaned, stroking his dick.  Milking it of
pre-cum which oozed from his pisshole.

It was a game of seduction.  Of give and take by both Tom and Mike.
Each yielding a little to one another, offering just enough to keep the
titilation, the act of seduction going.

"Did you know, Coach, that this is where your buddy, Tim, likes to take
his afternoon dump?"  Tom cooed, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips
around the rim of the toilet and sliding his mouth back and forth, his
saliva running down the side of the bowl.

"Fuck!"  Mike groaned.

"Yes, Coach!  I've knelt here many a time and sniffed and licked what
he's left behind.  Even the turds that he refuses to flush for a pig
like me to enjoy!"

"God damn!"  Mike sighed, as Tom lowered his head into the toilet bowl.

Mike heard a splashing and a low, gurgling sound.  Flinging his head
back and up, Tom emerged, his eyes gazing into Mike's glassy with lust.
His hair dripping with the water from the bowl.  And wrapped between
Tom's lips, soaked toilet paper hanging from it, a brown, knotty turd.

"Fuck!"  Mike gasped, squeezing his dick, hard.

"Mmmmmm!"  Tom moaned, pushing the turd into his mouth.  Positioning
himself in front of the toilet and looking over his shoulder back at
Mike, sucking the turd in and out of his mouth, Tom arched his back and
thrust his ass towards his Coach.

The ball had been passed from Tom's court to Mike's.

Chapter 3

Mike crashed onto his knees into the pool of Tom's piss on the floor.
With his eyes riveted upon Tom's hairy asshole, Mike lowered his face to
the floor.

The rancid odor of Tom's piss curled up his nostris as Mike pressed his
lips to the tiled floor and slurped the raunchy necter into his mouth.
Wasn't this what he wanted Tom to do?  And know he found himself doing
exactly what he wanted Tom to do.

A wave of momentary disgust came over Mike as the tangy flavor of Tom's
piss swirled in his mouth.  It was so strong.  It was as if Tom had held
back taking a piss all day to allow it to ripen and ferment.  Mike
compared it to what his own morning piss was like when that deep, yellow
stream shot up a strong odor.

As Mike dragged his tongue on the floor, all the while jacking on his
cock, he watched as Tom spat the turd from his mouth onto the palm of
his hand,  Looking at his treasure for a second and smiling with
pleasure, Tom swung his hand back and slapped it into his asscrack.
Rubbing his hand up and down, he mashed the turd, smearing it into his
hairy trench.

A reeking stench swirled up Mike's nostrils as he licked and slurped his
way towards Tom.  It was a stink so overwhelming, the like of which Mike
had never smelled before.  Even his own, as he sat on the toilet and
took a dump, didn't smell as rank as what he smelled now.  He reasoned
that it was shit that had been left to fester and ferment.  And too, in
the hope that it would turn some guy on.

"Aw fuck!  Fuck!"  Tom sighed, as he rubbed his hand up and down his
buttcrack, smearing the turd and releasing its pungent odor.  "Tim!
Tim!" he moaned.

"Yeah, motherfucker!"  Mike moaned, as his tongue lapped at Tom's toes.
"That's my buddy's shit your smelling and wallowing in!  Smear it on
your ass, Tom!  Rub that stink all over!"

Tom swirled his hand over his ass, smearing the shit over his creamy,
white cheeks.

"Smell my ass, Coach!  Smell my dirty ass!"  Tom yelped.

"Lick your fingers, bitch!"  Mike snapped, as he reached up with his
hands and spread Tom's butt.

"Fuck!  Fuck!"  Tom growled, sucking and slurping on his fingers.

"Taste your buddy's stink with me, Coach!  Eat my dirty ass!"

Mike gazed at the pastey, smelly sludge smeared over Tom's ass.  He
marvelled and lusted over the way Tom, in a fury of heated lust, sniffed
and sucked his fingers.

He looked at Tom's asslips, puckering with another man's shit clumped
and dangling from his asshairs.  Mike sucked in a deep breath, filling
his lungs with raw ass funk wanting, craving and desiring what Tom
lusted over.  Tim's shit.

"Aaarrrggghhh!"  Mike grunted, grabbing Tom by the waist and slamming
his ass back onto his face.

"Eat it!  Eat it, fucker!  Eat my dirty ass!"  Tom moaned, bucking his
ass.  "Eat your friend's shit off my ass!"

Mike yielded to his carnal lust.  Rubbing his face into Tom's filthy
ass, he licked and tongued Tom's putrid hole.

"Yeah fucker!  Eat that ass!  Suck on that nasty hole, man!  Get that
stinking shit in your mouth!  Eat shit, man!  Eat shit!"

"Fuck!  Aw fuck!"  Mike hollered, yanking his head up and back, his face
covered in shit.

But before Mike could utter another sound, or gasp another sigh, a
hungry mouth clamped over his.  Powerful hands gripped his head and held
him captive as a wet tongue slithered into his mouth.

******************************

I welcome your comments.  Write to me at Rim4you@webtv.net