Jock Auction (10 page)

There was space for me to kneel between his calves. I looked down at the narrow,

pale, smooth expanse of his back, tapering to his slender waist. My dick felt heavy in its hardness, and I wrapped my fingers around it and let the broad, swollen head brush against Craig’s exposed hole.

Did he groan, or was that me? I didn’t have lube, though precum was oozing

steadily, and Craig had obviously slicked himself up well before I arrived. I ground the JOCK AUCTION | 63

tip of my prick against him some more, feeling the springy flesh yield and resist, watching as my cock began to glisten and shine with whatever oil he’d used.

Maybe I should’ve prepared him more, but I wanted him, and I knew he wanted it

too. I lined up my cock, my other hand flat on the small of his back, then pushed myself through the protesting ring, not letting up until I’d buried myself to the hilt in his clenching body. I heard him hiss then, his body shifting against me as he

accommodated my dick.

I wrapped my hands around his hips, pulled him close to me so that there wasn’t

another fraction of an inch I could fuck him with if I’d wanted to. He was as pliable as a rag doll, letting me hoist him back and smash his cheeks between us.

“Tighter,” I told him, and felt him clench down on me. Slowly, holding his pelvis

steady, I pulled back and dragged my dick out of his body. His hole gaped for a brief moment, then closed again until I pushed myself back through. He moaned then as I

worked his ring over some, pulling myself free and then popping the broad head of my glans inside again, over and over.

“Give me your arms,” I told him, and he did, folding them across his back. I

pinned his wrists together against his spine, pushed down so that Craig’s torso dipped more, tilting his ass farther up and letting me drop my weight down onto it. Then my dick was buried in him again, and I was fucking him, hard, unrelenting—slamming my dick home as I trapped him underneath me.

I don’t know where the dominance came from. It was only really there when I was

with Craig. There was something about him—us—that brought out this controlling

tendency in me. I leaned forward so that I could press my chest against his back, his arms sandwiched between us, and jabbed against his prostate, twisted my hips up as I sawed away.

“Look at you,” I growled in his ear, lips close, nose buried in his sweat-damp hair.

“Down on the floor like a fucking dog in heat, desperate to get filled.” He looked back at me with an expression of mixed lust and frustration, eyes trying to focus on my face.

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“Would it have mattered if it was me that came in through the door, you dirty little whore?” Craig glared at me. “You’d have just let anybody breed your little hole.”

My own dirty talk, the look of fury and heat on Craig’s face, it was all pushing me to the point of no return. Sweat was making our bodies slide and stick together, and I could feel my balls pulling up, getting ready to unload into him. I didn’t give him any warning, just pushed myself to my deepest and let rip.

Jaw clenched, I fell back, skin separating with a wet, sticky smack, my dick yanked free of his gaping, slicked ass. I reached down and gave it a few final pulls, milking the last dregs of my climax. Craig sat up, turned to look at me between my raised knees.

His face was flushed, hair disheveled.

And then he was crawling up toward me, between my thighs and straddling my

chest, his slender legs braced either side of me. I expected him to stop, to maybe dip down and kiss me, but he didn’t. He kept moving up until his cock was right against my lips, juicy and fat.

I didn’t waste any time. I let him ease it into my mouth and started to suck on it. I could smell myself on him, mixed with our sweat, and it was making me dizzy with

lust. I reached up to stroke across his smooth, flat stomach with one hand while using the other to trace down the crack of his ass and probe into the sticky mess there.

Three fingers in and he was bucking on top of me, my lips stretched obscenely as

his cock butted against the back of my throat. I’d gone from being an oral virgin—

scared, in fact—to taking as much of Craig’s dick as I could without throwing up or passing out from lack of air. I almost mewled in disappointment when he pulled out and rubbed the underside of the long shaft up across my lips and nose, letting me lap at his balls.

Then it was farther up, and I was licking his taint, the swollen saddle of flesh

behind his nuts. I realized he was still going, and the taste on my tongue was myself. I tried to sit up, to twist my head, but he gripped me with thighs on either side of my face and, tilting his pelvis, ground his hole on it.

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I looked up at him, staring past his dick, as he bucked and writhed on me. I

should’ve been disgusted, but I knew I was hard again, and that—straight or whatever, labels be damned—I was going to end up buried in this as far as my fledgling lusts would ask of me.

The next time he bore down, I stuck out my tongue, letting it rasp across his

glistening flesh. He purred with pleasure and rocked himself again on me, fucking his hole with the roughness of my mouth. I could smell his musk, the hot tang of sweat, and my own juice as it oozed out of him and across my face. Craig’s hands were

gripping my head now, holding me still so that he could grind his ass onto my tongue, his balls tight and nudging against my nose, his breaths coming in short, staccato pants.

I guess I also knew he was going to come, probably across my face given he

showed no signs of moving any time soon. I had my own dick in my hand too, jerking myself as I shed another layer of restraint and self-control. Right in front of my eyes I could see Craig’s hand wrapped around his painfully swollen cock, frantically fisting the heavy knob.

He tensed on me. I felt his ass clench as he came across my nose, my eyes, my

forehead. Long, heavy slaps of cum that slowly dripped down my cheeks. The feel of it, landing wetly, drove me to my own climax, a smaller puddle but no less satisfying.

Craig slid his body down mine, brought our lips together, and kissed me, our faces sliding from the shared juices.

“That was…hot,” he gasped. His pupils were huge.

“I know,” was all I could say.

“You want to watch it?”

Hang on, watch it? What did he mean?

“I videoed it,” Craig answered my unasked question, pointing to his webcam. I

looked at him in horror.

“Please…please tell me that wasn’t live!”

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He laughed. “Of course not. But I recorded it, for us. Well, more for me really, but you’re welcome to a copy.”

I could only imagine what it would look like—me pounding Kyle’s hole and then

licking it—and the thought of a copy existing, even if it was in my hands, hardly filled me with confidence. And yet, what we’d just done had been mind-blowing; I was

desperate to relive it, even if just on-screen.

“Turn it on, then,” I told him. “And don’t forget to make me that copy.”

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Chapter Four

How long do you have to be fucking a guy before you accept that you’re probably

not straight? Craig and I had been screwing around for a couple of weeks now, and

though I knew I loved being buried deep in him—his mouth or his ass, I didn’t much care which—I was no closer to figuring out where that left me in terms of my sexuality.

I knew, rationally, that Louis was right, that I should forget about trying to label shit and concentrate on what I was enjoying. That sort of liberation doesn’t come easily, though, and our brains automatically want to jump to processing stuff, not just let it slide past. My cock might have no qualms, but my head sure did.

I’d left Craig’s place that night with the memory of his ass against my lips and a copy of the video documenting it on my phone. I had to resist the urge to watch it on the way home. We’d only got partway through playing it back together before I’d had him bent over the desk, cheek mashed against the keyboard as I plowed his ass, all the while watching as I fucked him on-screen.

When I got in, there was nobody home. A note on the fridge from my parents said

they were out with friends, but more importantly that there was money for food on the counter. Coach could be a dragon about eating healthy for the good of the team, but his grumpy bullshit in the locker room isn’t something I’d have to face for days, whereas my rumbling stomach was in the kitchen right here.

I’d just got off the phone when it rang straight back, quick enough to make me

think that it was the pizza place itself calling to tell me they were—God forbid—out of pepperoni or something.

“Yeah?” I answered. There was a slow, drawling chuckle.

“You got a polite phone voice, dude.”

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Hang on, Louis? I wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten my number, though maybe it

had been on one of the team contact sheets I never bothered reading but my mom kept pinned to the fridge. He’d certainly never called me before.

“Hey, Louis.” I wasn’t sure what to say. Considering the last time I’d seen him I

was staring at his ass as he left, him having just squeezed my dick, chatting shit on the phone didn’t quite come easily.

“I wanted to…make sure you were doin’ okay,” he told me. “I know you’re

processing a whole lot right now.”

I nodded, then blurted out “yeah” when I remembered he couldn’t actually see

me. There was a pause.

“So…if you want to talk, or somethin’.”

Part of me did. Want to talk, that is, want to blurt out a mile a minute what Craig and I had been doing and how it made me feel and why the thought of being with him, just in his company, was making my body do weird things. But somehow talking about it on the phone with Louis was even weirder than talking about it in a shower, naked, with him.

“Yeah, kinda,” I hedged. He didn’t say anything. “Just feels a bit…”

He laughed a little, though it sounded somewhat forced. “Sure, maybe not on the

phone, yeah?”

I “mm-hmm’d” my agreement, and he told me “no problem” and hung up. I

stared at the phone in my hands for a while, trying to figure out where this new—

friendship?—had come from. I’d played alongside Louis for a couple of years now, but I still knew little more about him than I did on day one. He was a good player and a fit guy, and he obviously had a lot going on between his legs, but other than that he was pretty much a mystery to me.

The doorbell ended up distracting me, and I grabbed the cash off the counter to

pay the pizza delivery guy. Only, when I opened the door, it wasn’t some kid in a cap with a scooter and my extra large with extra cheese; it was Louis.

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“Um…” I managed, as he grinned at me.

“Yeah, bullshit on the phone, so I thought…”

“We thought,” a voice to the side of him corrected. I looked across to see another guy standing next to him, older somewhat, and who I guessed could only be Louis’s

brother given the obvious family resemblance. A little taller and a little wider in the shoulders, maybe. Just as handsome.

“This is my brother, Ty,” Louis told me, nodding at his sibling. “The one I told

you about.”

Ty scowled a little at his brother, then held out his hand to me. “Good to meet

you, Kyle. Louis seems to think we might have some shit to talk through.”

I was saved by the pizza guy, a lanky white kid I thought I maybe recognized

from school, who dropped off the food, took the cash, and—with a curious look at the three of us standing pointedly around the door—finally backed off to where his

spluttering steed rested against the gate.

“Look, you want to come in?” I asked them. Louis glanced at the pizza box. “Just

promise not to tell Coach.”

I dumped the boxes on the coffee table—I’d gotten chicken wings and some other

stuff, over-ordering as usual—and went into the kitchen for napkins. My head was

spinning; when I’d said it was weird talking shit over with Louis on the phone, I really hadn’t meant that he should come over. And bringing his brother? That was just crazy.

When I went back into the lounge, they were talking together quietly, heads close

but separating quickly as I walked up and dropped a loose stack of paper napkins next to the pizza. I took the chair opposite them.

“So, Kyle, my brother tells me you’re getting some dude sex,” Ty said, suddenly. I think I must’ve gone either bone white or bright red.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Louis shouted, smacking his brother on the leg. My gaze

flicked between them, eyes wide.

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Ty seemed entirely unconcerned by either my shock or Louis’s disapproval,

though, grinning at me across the table. I swallowed, my tongue suddenly feeling too big for my mouth.

“Look, I know Louis told you about me. That I’m gay. And he said he thought you

might want to talk with another guy who understands what this shit is like.” I think I nodded. “So, talk to me, dude. Don’t just sit there looking like you’re about to get shot.”

I glanced at Louis, and he gave me a nod of the head that seemed to say “go on,

dude,” so I did.

“There’s this guy from school, another senior,” I started, having to stop and

swallow again. “He bought me and then we…did stuff, together.” I could see Ty

frowning some. “I mean, he bought me in the charity auction,” I explained. “And it turned out he’s gay and was, well, interested in me.”

Ty nodded. “And you…?”

Now there was the question. I shook my head and quickly shrugged. “Fuck

knows. I’m meant to be straight, but this afternoon I was…well…” I trailed off, but Ty was grinning and Louis had this sort of “you sly dog” expression on his face. I blushed again.

“You’re getting some action, and you don’t know if that makes you queer, right?”