by Caldon Mull
He actually had very little to do with me, and I had never really met him much in the 18 months he had been my Section Chief. But with my position and work suddenly growing in importance, suddenly I was no longer permanently on night shift, I was around during the day so we could ‘interface’. My work hadn’t changed, but now I had more Section Chiefs fighting to get me in their ‘team’ than I had colleagues. Weird.
“Very well sir, it’s all going well.” I leaned forward and smiled, my ass stinging pleasantly from Michel’s cock. If only he knew…
“Good, good. Carry on then.” He left the bare room suddenly, as if all the lights and starkness was an alien environment that simply ejected him. They were like that now, as soon as they realized there was real work being done, they had to step forward and take the credit. I really didn’t care much.
I busied myself for the rest of the day and was home by seven. The lights were on, I had left the door key for Michel under the mat and his truck was outside. The smell of chicken livers wafted from the house as I dodged the drizzle to the porch.
Michel looked up from the TV guide as I walked in. “Hey Buddy.” He smiled shyly.
“What’s up?” I grinned back.
He relaxed somewhat “Hope you like…” he pointed to the kitchen.
“Great, I’m starved.”
“Listen…” he fidgeted “About last night…” He licked his lips “I woke up this… I didn’t mean…”
“Hey.” I interrupted gently “Hear me out. I know you too well, I know what you gonna say. Look at it this way, you’re my buddy… the best friend I have in the world. I love you man, and also… you’re my Lover. I know you might not see it like that, but that’s what we are. So… my house, my body… whatever I got …I’m happy to share with you. I don’t want you to feel you have to ask, an’ I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you want to take. Cut me the same slack, OK?”
“You make it sound so easy, Andy…” Michel sighed, then grinned suddenly “… but cool. I felt great this morning, I’m still not sure why. The first time in long awhile. Did we…?”
“Hell, yes!” I laughed, glad that his crisis was over. “You topped me in your sleep.” Michel blushed, stared at his feet. “It was great, a ‘rock my world’ fuck, and just what I needed.” Michel grinned back at me. “C’mon stud, let’s eat.”
“What about the Rent?” He shrugged, standing up and moving towards the kitchen. His shoulder muscles rippled under his thin vest.
“Same as you gave your Dad.” I pulled my damp hair back “Makes it easier to budget. I’ll give you an account number tomorrow, put it straight in every month.”
“Boss! Toast or bread?” I followed him to the kitchen.
“Bread, wholegrain. There’s some in the bin.” He handed me a plate and lifted the lid on the pot. “TV, Hot Bath or bed?” He grinned hopefully.
“Hot Bath, then bed.” I spooned a portion of brown rice into both our plates, grinned back.
“Yours or mine?” He poured the finely minced liver on top of the rice.
“Yours, this time.” I grabbed his waist from behind, nipped his earlobe.
“Great.” Michel leaned back against me, his hard butt pressing my half-wood “This is gonna work out just fine.”
“You better believe it, man. Any rules I gotta know about?”
“Hell, Andy. I’ve never done this before. Let’s make them up as we go.”
“Me neither. Suites me just fine though, buddy. I’m game.” I rubbed my palm over his nipple.
“Yeah, me too.” he added huskily.
Chapter Seven
“Ok, now play nicely with the children.” Michel grinned as he dropped me off at the stadium. I grabbed my kit from the back of his truck and smirked back at him.
“Hey, Michel.” Dean strolled forward hands in pockets, fringe flying in the cool breeze.
“What’s up?” He was wearing denims, a blue jacket, thick-knit shirt and sneakers. He looked fit.
“Nothing much, kid.” Michel greeted him “Could be, tho…” he smiled impishly. Dean smiled shyly and rocked on his heels. “You gonna come through with us?”
“Nah, not this time. Still got business.” He leaned out the truck, muscular arms dangling. “Guess I catch you at your lessons.”
“What lessons?” Dean squinted.
“The computer ones, Andy set up some equipment in his garage. Gotta pick up some more a’ his stuff tomorrow.”
Dean goggled at me “Wow! You sure move fast when you want to.”
“You ain’t seen the half of it.” Michel smirked. “Well, maybe you have… Anyway, I’m gonna see more of you.” He leaned back in the cab and gunned the motor. “Later, kid. Bye Andy.”
“See ya, buddy.” I waved
“Bye Michel.” Dean grinned, blushing in the cool air.
I shouldered my togs and strolled towards the group. Dean fell in next to me. “He likes you, y’know.”
“Yeah, me too.” Dean whispered back. Louder he said “What’s this about the machines?”
“I reckon with Michel moving in, I may as well get you boys started on studyin’ somethin’.” I shifted the kit over my shoulders “So I’m building up another machine so you can start learning about stuff.”
“Oh Wow!” Dean beamed “Thanks, man.”
“I got some old courses I could run you through, I was keeping hush about it until Mr. Tact there blurted it all out.” I chuckled.
“You said he’s moving in?”
“Yeah, you don’t miss a thing there, eh?” I laughed. “His Dad and him had a falling out and so he’s rooming with me. Wants to start college in the Spring, so I thought I’d set up one at my place. Wanna start a Study Group?”
“You bet!” Dean gushed “That’d be so cool.”
“Down, tiger, down. Save it for the League.” I laughed again. His enthusiasm was infectious. We had joined the others.
“Hey Mark, Shane, Buck…” I nodded all round.
“Hey, Andy…” They nodded back, hunched against the cold.
“You ready for the Season, Andy?” Mark moved over to us while the rest moved towards the stands to get away from the wind. Mark wasn’t as sensibly dressed as Dean. He had a thin draw-string cotton track suit, a light tee-shirt and sneakers. The only sensible thing he had was a greatcoat, and he was fumbling to put it on now. The head of his cock was outlined in the fabric against the wind, and his nipples strained against the white fabric. He looked really cold. He fumbled with the buttons with stiff fingers.
“Damn right, kid.” I shivered slightly, just watching him “I don’t want all that training to go to waste.”
“Where’s Hoskins and Blunt with the vans?” Mark’s teeth rattled “Man, I’m freezing my nuts off.”
“Shit, just like last year.” Dean shuddered in sympathy “They always late. It’s nearly dark, already.”
“C’mon, closer.” Mark chattered “There’s no room under the stands.”
We huddled together against the locked change-room door, out of the wind, miserable. We were just starting to warm up when two sets of lights drove up the lane, past the car park.
“Typical,” Mark grumbled into my ear “Just as I was getting’ comfortable.”
“Don’t fret meat-machine,” Dean sniffed, nose running “You gonna build character, is what.”
“Yah, they say that every year” Mark grinned, rosy-cheeked. “C’mon,we gotta cram in the back if we want to be near the beer.”
“Beer?” I muttered, swinging my kit again “What’s that?”
“That’s why they always late.” Dean muttered heaving his tog with one arm “They always stop to buy beer before they get here.”
“Shit! Is there enough space for us all?” I wondered.
Mark grinned “Doesn’t matter if there’s enough brewski. B’side’s we gonna be real cramped most the weekend, part of the fun.”
Dean chuckled quietly and loped towards the front Van. “Forwards
with Hoskins, Defenders with Blunt.” He called over his shoulder. Mark and I followed, no-one seemed inclined to follow those instructions, anyway.
There was a lot of shoving and cursing, kit bags being tossed inside, but eventually Dean and I squashed next to Mark in the rear of the Van. Bobby grinned at us as we piled in, I hung back before someone put their hands on my butt and heaved me forwards. It seemed like ages, but I guess it was no time at all before we were cramped in the back among bags and crates of cans. Mark was passing them forward while Dean and I tried vainly to get comfortable somewhere around Mark’s blocky body.
We gave up as Bobby pulled away, springs creaking in protest. “Yeesh.” I muttered, “couldn’t we pack any more in…?”
Mark belched into a can “Says it can seat twenty, there’s only fifteen of us.”
“That’s twenty Japs, buddy” I groaned, trying to straighten my legs “An’ they don’t count kit and beer.”
“Yeah, funny that.” Mark smirked, unbuttoning the front of his greatcoat and stretching out his thick legs in the isle.
“Just relax Andy,” Dean groaned from behind Marks shoulder, squirming “It’ll settle down.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I grumbled, taking a beer from Mark and draping one of my legs over his, tried to straighten my spine. It kinda worked, so I left it there.
After ten minutes we couldn’t see the town lights anymore, and night had crept in. Mark had stretched his left arm out against the back of the seat, and Dean had scrunched up on the other side of him, knees against his chest, leaning against Marks’ blocky side. Mark belted back his fourth beer while I opened my second, and it was warm and fuggy in the Van. Dean was dozing.
“How long to the game?” I asked Mark.
“Hmm, about sixty or so miles.” Mark turned his head slightly, his lips moved against my forehead. “We sleep over and get a morning game. Then the other team gets a Saturday game and we play them on Sunday morning.” His lips parted, smiling “Everyone gets to play once on home ground against everyone else. If the league were bigger, we could spread the games a little.”
“Hey!” Shane called from the front of the bus “Pass another tray, we’re getting dry up here.” “‘X’cuse, Andy.” Mark heaved his bulk forward, twisted and pulled another case from the
top of the stack behind me and passed it forward. Dean compensated sleepily by leaning forward against his knees. I envied him that trick.
“Take it easy guys!” Bobby called from the driver’s seat. “There ain’t no piss-stops this trip.”
“Yeah, whatever!” A jeering chorus ran down the bus.
By the time Mark settled back, my head was stuck against his ribs. He opened his legs so I could sit upright as much as possible, settling on half his lap, my right leg between his. I reached out my right arm and slung it around his shoulders. His left hand dropped down my ribs, my ear pressed against the side of his neck. I could hear his blood pounding.
“Sorry Andy, you OK?” he whispered.
“I’m fine, buddy.” I squirmed and settled, it was only a half-lie.
“Cool.” He took a swig of his beer with his free hand. Dean snored softly somewhere under his right pit. I swigged my beer and dropped it somewhere between my lap. It clattered on the floor. No more for me without a piss-stop.
Mark turned his head slightly, then his lips brushed my eyebrow. He kept contact. His left fingertips slipped past my jeans hem, touching the bare skin just below the hollow of my hip.
“Ah! Um! Mark…” I whispered.
“Shh!” He crooned “No-one will see. Okay?”
“Mmm, Sure.” I nodded slightly.
His fingers slipped through the flat planes between my thigh and my abs, reached my short bush. He ruffled the hair with his fingertips. I could feel myself stiffening. On the back of my right hamstring I could feel heat from his crotch and his dick hardening. His index finger and middle finger had slipped around the root of my cock, and he was easing it up against the inside of my jeans, snapping the buttons open with his knuckles. My dick didn’t need much help. It lengthened and hardened, and he closed the rest of his fist over the top of it. He got a good grip on my head, bunched the skin forward and started to squeeze my helmet, milking it like a cows’ teat. I slowly moved my arm from around his shoulder and moved it along my leg. I felt his hardness through the fabric and rubbed then underside of it, flat against his belly.
His mouth parted slightly and he sucked at the hair of my eyebrow slowly. I slipped my hand past his draw-sting and against his hard furry abs and immediately slipped down the length of his stubby pork-sword. His shaft was sweaty, and sticky around his cock-slit. I slipped my fingers and thumb around the ridge and underside knobs of his head and started to tug slowly with three fingers, matching the rhythm he had set on my boner. His crotch musk wafted up to my face and I could feel my nipples twist as I panted in his smell. His tongue lapped down my eyebrow over my eyelid and over to my ear.
He nipped the outside of my earlobe and whispered “Andy, I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.” He whispered half-panting “I thought of nothing else, even when I fuck my girl…” he groaned softly, his hot breath tickled my ear “…I come when I think about your cock in my ass, I ain’t never been so horny for so long… I just can’t get enough…” Mark took a long shuddering breath in my ear, his spit matted my long hair. “…sex…” he hissed quietly.
I felt his cock pump against my thumb and his hot cum drooled out of his slit in a thick stream down the drum-stretched skin of his cut man-meat. I slipped my hand down and grabbed his burning slimy shaft with my fist, gripping his root through the thick wiry bush, I squashed his tight balls onto the seat. The fat button of his left nipple beaded against his thin undershirt near my mouth. I leaned forward fractionally and clamped it with my teeth, bit down. He made a deep rumbling sound in his throat and more of his jizz streamed over my hand, pooling over his squashed sack. Mark’s crotch musk, stale beer, man-sweat and salty cum buzzed through my senses, I felt dizzy, cramped like a paperclip and burning hot where I pressed against his body in the dark Van.
His hand pulled away from my hard cock and slipped around my shoulders. He tugged me close against his body. My jacket may have covered my lap, but the buttons of my jeans were open and my cock was throbbing against my loose shirt. I had enough sweat in my crack to lube me for the entire team. Marks’ strong thick fingers started to pinch my left nipple through my jacket, idly but persistently.
I pulled my slime-coated hand from his shrinking cock and pressed it to my mouth. While I sucked his goo off my thumb, he pressed his head closer and his expert tongue flicked his cum from my other fingers, starting from the webs and sliding up towards the first knuckle.
“Say you’ll do me tonight, C’mon… please?” whispering, he nuzzled my ear “C’mon, please…please, c’mon?” he grinned.
“Hey, Meat!” Jase yelled from the middle of the bus “More brewski! Whasamattachu, asleep!?”
“Hey! Hold yer horses, asswipe!” Mark bellowed forward, leaning to pull another case from behind me. My head slipped forward as he pressed, lips touching the damp front of his pants. I slid out my tongue as he struggled and ran it over the top of his cock. It twitched. While he grunted with the case, I sucked a mouthful of his cum through the sodden fabric. His cock hardened a bit, started to tent.
“Don’t shtop there!” Shane slurred “More thish way.”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Mark grumbled loudly to them, humorously “That’s right, fuck me around, whydoncha? If ya don’t get the order right the first time, Andy’s gonna brain ya… if he ever gets to sit up straight agin.”
The guys laughed as Mark passed yet another case down. I sucked at the spot above his balls, while his half-wood stabbed my cheekbone, soggily. Finally, he leant back and I bobbed for air. He hugged me again and licked my cheekbone where his juice smeared it. “Man o’ man, yer sumthin’” He murmured. I grinned at him in the dark, and leaned back into the space le
ft by the beer cases finally able to stretch. His hands plucked at my lap, did up my buttons, then squeezed my cock through the jeans idly as we drove, until my nuts started to ache. If he wanted me climbing walls by the time we got there, he was doing a good job.
In the distance, lights started to shine dimly. A dark wall of mountains loomed on every side of the Van, and I could hear Bobby lift the rush off the pedal and start to take it easy. Mark tugged his greatcoat closed and started to smooth the front of it, but even in the dark I could see the bulge of his semi jutting out of his lap. Dean yawned and stretched. He had an amazing gift to time his sleep.
“We nearly there, Meat?” He pushed and jostled his stiff legs, trying to work some circulation into them.
“Yeah, ‘bout.”
“How ya doing, Andy?” Dean swivelled and dumped his ankles over mine.
“Good, kid.” I chuckled “Just great.” The lights got brighter, and soon we pulled up at a motel. It looked forlorn, but clean. The doors popped open as soon as the Van stopped and the guys baled out. A group immediately made for the tall trees and shortly afterward there was the sound of pissing and satisfied groans from a half dozen guys.
Mark, Dean and I were clambering out when we noticed Shane lolling in his seat. “Shit, guys… I’m pissed.” He muttered “but I gotta pee.”
“Dumbass!” Dean muttered “C’mon, you grab a side, me this one and Andy grab his legs.” We man-handled Shane out and frog-marched him to the curb, while the other guys walked past fixing their flies.
“Hey, Andy’s turn this year…” Someone laughed.
“What’s that about?” I muttered steering Shane’s hefty hips.