Storyville

by Caldon Mull

  “I’m gonna pop, Bobby” Mark wheezed “My cock’s gonna blow…”

  “Yeah and your ass as well. You gonna blow the big one baby, you gonna spooge and you gonna twist off my fat cock with your sweet ass. You gonna come like a bitch baby… Like you’re our bitch… you’re such a good fuck, baby …all those years of just whacking off… you could’ve had all our cocks like this… Oh man you’re sweet ass…”

  “Ah! Ohgodohgod! Bobby!” Mark hissed “I’m gonna cummmm…”

  I watched as Bobby and Mark hit the most spectacular come I’d seen so far. Bobby’s face went all serious, then all blank as Mark heaved his blocky body, bedsprings squeaking furiously. Bobby hung onto Mark’s cock, then they both stated jerking in unison. Mark’s cock almost burst with a thssspht sound and the first real spurts I seen him shoot splattered the sopping pillows while his body shuddered so bad I thought he would break bones doing it. Bobby’s fist gripped Mark’s cock white-knuckled, only managing to mangle the bottom half, while the top was all red and thick purple veins. His stubby helmet was jutting out like wings around the top, cum flying. Bobby’s body was rippling like ocean waves. His cock was half-out Mark’s ass, and his body pulsed from below his hard pectorals all the way to his bush, rhythmically in time with his spurts. Every muscle stood out in stark relief and was rippling, pulsing persistently. Sweat poured off his body in rivulets over the spasms. His buttocks were pulsing cords, flat ridges pushing at the skin, then rippling aside for another set to take its turn. My cock twitched. As spent as I was, I nearly creamed myself watching them both.

  They didn’t seem to have the energy or the breath to make much sound, and MTV rocked in the background, loud enough to mask all our noises. After a few seconds frozen in place, they toppled , utterly spent, over the mattress. A few minutes later, they were limp and out from their cum-high. I got up and wrestled the duvet from under them, covered them and the distributed pillows as best I could. Cock flopping between my naked thighs, I turned down the TV from loud to barely audible and made sure the alarms were set. I yanked the quilt from under Shane, pushing and twisting him until I had it and switched off the light. Tossing it over both of us, I rolled onto my side and settled to doze.

  Sometime later I woke, feeling very hot. Shane had spooned me in the middle of the bed, his huge body heating my skin. His mouth was buried in the tangle of my hair, hot breath warming my scalp, and my head was resting on his massive, smooth forearm. I didn’t feel him moving, and wasn’t sure he was awake. I stretched out a bit, slowly. A fraction of an inch of moving, then I felt his thick cock resting against the length of my crack. I froze. He made a sleepy noise and his left arm dropped over my waist, heavy. My heart thudded in my chest and I started to tremble for some reason. I tried to breathe deeply and calm my body, after awhile it stopped as it picked up the heat from his body.

  Warm, cozy, I tried to drift off again. Every breath I took and his fingers tickled my bush. My cock stretched and slid into the palm of his hand. To my surprise, his fist closed on it and started to squeeze slowly. I started, and his other arm folded over my collar-bone and pressed me back against him. He moved slowly and I realized he wasn’t asleep, after all.

  “Hmmm…” he made a sound into my ear. Pinioned against him, I could feel his beaded nipples pressing into my back, his solid pectorals pressing my shoulder blades. His left hand stopped squeezing my cock and slipped up to my waist where it settled over my hipbone in a solid grip, pressing me into the mattress and against his body. He moved again and the wet head of his cock slipped down my crack and pressed at my starfish. It was slick with sweat, my whole body was dripping with it, the quilt and his huge heat had turned the bed into a sauna. I didn’t move, breathed deeply and tried to control the trembling that had started in my body all over again. I realized it wasn’t from the cold.

  “…cold?…” his voice whispered.

  “Uh… nah…” I murmured softly.

  “…good…” he nuzzled my thick hair. His huge thigh pressed between my knees. His smooth skin slipped along the inside of my thighs, coasting on layers of mingled sweat. After a few moments resistance I parted them slowly, and he kept pressing until the top of his tree-trunk muscle rested under my balls. As he was pressing, the head of his cock slipped into my ass. It stopped as soon as his rim passed the seal, caught between the flared flange and the massive girth of his shaft.

  “Mmmm…” His arm started to stroke my chest, plucked at a nipple, slipped down and lightly brushed my six-pack, back again to my shoulder, then down. His other hand stayed firm on my hip, pressing me against him and the bed.Without saying a word, I slowly pulled my knees towards my chest until my balls were squashed between my thighs and my lower abs. He responded by pulling his bottom leg up until his knees were pushing under my hamstrings, our thighs at right angles to our torsos. Doing this sucked about a half-inch of the top of his fat shaft into my ass. I felt his cock slit resting directly on top of my prostate button, far up my chute, his pulse shuddered in my body through the connection. Sweat from our bodies pooled and trickled over his cock, making it slicker. I clenched my abs gently, squeezing the dick buried in me.

  The springs creaked ominously as he moved fractionally, more of his cock slipped inside. My ass stretched, I felt my eyes water. His cock stopped moving. His pelvic bone ground against my coccyx, to the hilt. He had penetrated me completely, or rather I had taken him entirely.

  There wasn’t a fraction of his cock that wasn’t gripped by my wet gut. It was way tight, I felt stretched to paper thin, feeling every raised vein, the spongy piss-tube even his slick helmet-rim and arrow-head glans. My flesh moulded around him like he was part of me.

  The way we were laying, he pushed harder against my bud the deeper he got. My cock leaked pre-cum freely, spilling past my cap as the skin stretched back and peeled down my shaft. Without moving his hips, he flexed his cock. My ass stretched, flexed back. His grip against my hip tightened. I was trembling freely now, each flex of his thick dick squeezed a glob of pre-cum out of the top of my aching slit.

  After ten or fifteen minutes of squeezing and flexing, his breathing became ragged and his hips jerked with a ripple of springs squeaking, he pulled back and thrust into me, I trembled uncontrollably, my cock pounding, throbbing maddeningly. I pushed back against his thickness and reached down to pull at my cock. The springs protested as he gripped hard against my hip and sawed three powerful thrusts into my ass, each one slamming my magic spot. I felt spreading warmth inside me as he came, my fist pumping furiously I dumped my load over my torso.

  His body shuddered as my corn-hole milked his super-sensitive cock with my own orgasm. He released his vice grip on my hipbone, moved his hand over to my belly and smeared my jism into my skin in slow circles. He panted into my ear for a few moments more, then steadied his breathing and pulled out of me with a grunt. He rolled over onto his back. I lay on my side, ass burning, panting quietly.

  He swallowed thickly a few times, then rolled onto his left side, and soon his breathing became regular and slow. I stretched out, flopped on my back and waited for some of the sweat to dry. I fell asleep during this.

  My alarm buzzed softly and I got up and padded through to the head with my morning piss-hard. I was tired, but in a good way. I was still groggy and was finishing my piss when I started to notice the world around me. The shower was running, and as I squeezed my dick dry, I turned to see who was in it. The big blond brought last night back to me in a flash.

  “Hey Shane.” I called.

  “Yo, Andy.” Shane reached out a huge hand “Pass me the towel, dude.”

  I reached over and tugged it off the rail, walked over and handed it to him. He switched off the water and stepped out of the small shower.

  “Must’ve passed out in the van.” He said dabbing himself dry “You guys bring me in? Thanks.” He looked up, eyes smiling but daring me to say different.

  “Um, yeah.” I smoothed my hair back. I could still smell him on
me and taste his cum in the back of my throat, but what the hell, I thought. “You were out cold. It took four of us to drag you in, ya big lunk.” He grinned, rubbing his hair dry.

  “I gotta learn to pace myself.” He shrugged. He looked at me, “You in next? We gotta get togged soon and head for breakfast.”

  “Yup.” I shrugged. He was definitely checking out my cock, both of us standing buck naked in the bathroom inches apart from each other, but if you only listened to what he was saying it was like we were both just football jocks sharing a shower. “You left any hot water?”

  “Yeah, loads. I like to shower luke-warm.” He didn’t move aside as I climbed into the stall. I brushed past him, skin touching skin and turned the water on. I felt his eyes roving over me as I grabbed the soap and started to rub down my ass. I turned around and lathered my chest. He was patting his groin dry, his half-wood flashing out of the edge of the towel. He stared into my eyes as he dabbed. I couldn’t read the expression in his cornflower eyes.

  Bobby and Dean staggered into the room, heading for the toilet. Both started pissing into the bowl as Shane stepped past them and slung the towel over the rail. His huge muscles rippled as he headed into the next room to where his kit was.

  “Hey Shane.” Mark stumbled in as well, looking decidedly rumpled.

  “Hey, Meat.”

  “Hey Andy,” Dean called, shaking his cock “You near finished?”

  “Yeah, step in as soon as I get the towel.” I called back. We exchanged places and I quickly rubbed myself as dry as I could on Shane’s damp towel. “Need another towel, though.”

  “No problem, I got one here.” Bobby stood, waiting for Dean.

  “There’s another on the chair, I got it.” Mark muttered, concentrating on pissing in the bowl. “I’ll go and kit up.” I slung the towel over my shoulder and went into the next room. Shane had his tog-bag on the bed and was busy putting on his jockstrap and shoulder pads. I said nothing and dabbed my feet dry before reaching for mine and started to dress.

  By the time Mark came through, Shane and I were standing on the porch outside the door looking at the weather.

  “At least it’s not raining.” I muttered, tying my hair in a knot at the top of my skull and putting on my knitted beanie.

  “It’s the mountains.” Shane shrugged “We get the rain, they get the clouds.”

  “Doesn’t sound fair, does it?” I blew into my hands, rubbed them together in the chill air. “That’s just the way it is.” Shane shrugged, grinning lopsidedly. “Ain’t no use wishin’ otherwise. Sometimes though, we get clouds an’ they get rain. Don’t set no clock to it, it’s just the way it feels at the time.” I suddenly got the impression he was talking about more than just the weather.

  “Yeah, guess you’re right.” I shrugged “I’ve always said it’s easier to just accept things the way they are. Guess I live my life like the weather.”

  “Go with the flow, Finch.” Shane leaned his hands on the balustrade, stared out at the trees “We all do.”

  “Fuck it, I’m starved.” Mark strolled out to join us, Bobby and Dean were switching off the TV and lights, grabbing their helmets.

  “Follow me.” Shane stood up and launched himself towards the main building, studs clicking on the wooden porch

  Breakfast was a plain affair, eggs, bacon, toast, coffee and oatmeal, but there was plenty of it and the whole team ate full.

  “Why we kitted now?” I asked past a mouthful to Mark.

  “They ain’t got big enough change-rooms for three teams. This year we lost out seeing as we finished lower down the log.”

  “Why don’t we have these games at home?”

  “‘Cause we don’t got no motel.” Dean swallowed coffee. “Team’s gotta bus in for the day. Not many can do that. Some are just too far away.”

  “An’ the third guys?” I wondered.

  “They got a small motel and a small stadium, but it’s a dry county.” Bobby leaned over and grabbed some more toast. “‘sides, they another hundred miles other side. Suites me to meet up here.”

  “The boys would rather play here, anyway.” Alex grinned and squashed up the yolk of his egg. “God knows why. Usually they create quite a ruckus at the local bar, Saturday nights.”

  “Go figure.” Dean grinned.

  “Who we’re playing?” I nibbled a strip of bacon. It was nice and crispy.

  “Dry County first this morning, Local Boys tomorrow morning.” Mark shrugged. “So our game will probably suffer ‘gainst them.”

  “Not really.” Alex and Bobby exchanged glances quickly. “This year we ready for them.”

  We finished quickly after that and bussed through to the field. There were about thirty people in the stands, and all bundled against the weather. Although it was chilly and overcast, the wind was slow and the chance of rain was minimal. All the officials and Umpire had turned out and while we were setting up, the spots were turned on. The grass was crispy and dry and cut just right. As I warmed up, I could see Alex busy chatting to the Honey Sisters, and I recognized a few faces from home, but none that I knew well.

  On the other side of the stand was about fifty people I had never seen before, I guessed they were Dry County supporters. All we needed now was their team. They were late. Eventually, ten or so minutes later their big yellow bus arrived and the guys poured out into the small change rooms. Apparently they had a flat, so the game was moved back for them to get ready.

  The game itself was a rush. We started with the defending side, who lost some ground to Dry County and a touch score, but all things considered did themselves proud. In our quarter, there was no comparison. It would appear there was some or other magic happening, because our play was crisp and Alex and Bobby were on fire. As soon as the ball touched their hands, it stuck and they ran for touch. Mark and Shane were collapsing their line like skittles and the ball bounced to me on more than one occasion. This quarter I flicked it out to Dean as quickly as I could and ran forward as fast as possible, the way Bobby detailed the play. Dean would launch it back and I would pass it immediately to Alex for a run to touch. When they marked me and ran me to ground, Dean feinted and then just flicked it over to Bobby who did exactly what Alex had been doing. It worked a charm. 21 to 7, at half time.

  Heartened, Jase lead the defenders back for third quarter. Their game improved dramatically, instead of playing just defensively, Jase and Barry decided to gamble on several pushes forward. They slipped 2 touches, but made them back as Dry County stopped being able to predict what we were doing. 35 to 21, all bets are off.

  Bobby called the play and I nodded, dry mouthed. Dean winked at me, I grinned back. Play started and Mark and Shane heaved at the line, with predictable results. Their defenders made a bee line for Bobby and Alex and didn’t notice Dean sprinting down the line, legs pumping furiously until it was too late. Dean whooped and did a flip on the touch-line while they were still reeling in his 20 yard lead. We grabbed the ball in the next play, Dean feinted forward, Alex broke down left field and Shane ran behind him in support. Their advance ended in a bone- crunching pile of jocks. Bobby flipped the Ball out from somewhere beneath Mark and slung it to me. I felt the impact of the pigskin in my hands and knew it was safe.

  I was already running wide, so with the ball safely in hand, I ducked right and sprinted as fast as I could cutting from left to right. Shane and Alex were intercepted, Bobby and Dean were blocked and I was running clear. Some of the players saw me and their quarterback gave chase, but I was too far ahead. I bent and touched down as calmly as I could then turned and waited for the quarterback to close the gap.

  I tossed the ball to him and walked past as nonchalantly as I could. Inside me my guts were trembling ‘touuuuuuuuuchdowwwnnnn’ but I tried to be as cool as I could. He flipped the ball in his long fingers and watched me jog back to my line. The next plays saw them desperately push forward, but we kept the ball to ground and the plays ended with the score 49 to 25. Dry County Quarterback booted
for field goals in desperation, but couldn’t dent the lead.

  At the games end, the Honey Sisters were shrieking and dancing on the stadium seats and even the Dry County supporters were applauding. It had been a fine running game. Quarterback came to me after we had walked off. Dean and I turned as he tapped me on the shoulder.

  “That was a forty-yard sprint.” He tugged off his helmet. He looked like Dean, but only more so. Pitch black hair, dark –almost black- eyes, square jaw, high cheekbones and thick black delicately shaped eyebrows, 6’5” tall. My brain hit numb. I just looked at him. Straight into his eyes.

  “So, where they been hiding you? Seems to me they’d got you playin’ sooner.” He grinned.

  “Nah.” I shrugged “Thirty-seven, thirty-eight tops. Not forty.”

  “Well run, …Finch” he read my name off my kit. He offered me his hand.

  “It’s Andy to you …Dekker.” I gripped his palm, made a show of reading his name “Next time you might catch me in time.”

  “I’m Will. If you say it was only thirty-seven, I might just, Andy.”

  “See ya around, Will.” I retrieved my hand. It tingled.

  He sauntered off, Dean watched him go. “Wow!” he breathed “That’s a lotta quarterback… that’s Dekker, man.”

  “Hmmm. Yeah.” I tried to think about what we were talking about before, couldn’t. “Where we go next?”

  “Back to the motel, then we go to the Trucker Lounge for a Saturday Night hoe-down, is where.”

  “Trucker Lounge?” I shrugged.

  “That’s it’s’ name, that’s what they do there.” Dean stopped staring over my shoulder and looked at me finally.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Not a word of a lie, buddy.” Dean grinned, fringe flying.

  Chapter Eight