Jock Loses the Bet

by Kit Cody

  JOCK LOSES THE BET

  By Kit Cody

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For Adults Only. This story is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters within are 18 or over.

  JOCK LOSES THE BET

  I’m a jock, right? I’ve played sports since I was old enough to know what sports were. Baseball, football, basketball, soccer. I’ve even played a little hockey. I played as a kid, I played in school and I even played for a bit in college until my trick knee got the better of me. I’m very competitive. I keep in shape, too. I’m in the gym five days a week and I still play pickup games with my buddies on most weekends. I even still look like a jock (I can’t help it. Muscles, FTW.) I’m not a meathead though. I’m a lot more open-minded than a lot of jock guys and I’ve actually read a book here and there.

  So since I know sports, and I’m not a dummy, I place a lot of friendly bets with my friends on games. I’ve even been to Vegas a few times and I’ve done very well. I’m not sure I would want to make a living at it but I have a pretty good idea who is going to win on any given Sunday. And I’m rarely wrong.

  But when I am…

  The game was on at Sully’s – no, not that Sully, the other one. But both Sully’s were there, of course, as well as Smitty, Jonesy, Crazy Joe, and a bunch of other dudes I kind of know. A few girlfriends and dates too, including the girl I was with. It was a good size crowd in a small apartment on a nice Sunday afternoon.

  I don’t have the Express Written Consent of the National Sportsball League to be too specific here so I will just say it was a Pretty Big Game in an activity involving a ball. The game was between the Red Team and Blue Team and I’m a long time fan, along with all my friends, of the Red Team. Go Red Team.

  It was a pretty damn good game and everybody was having a good time. We could even hear other parties in the neighborhood cheer when Red Team scored. It seemed like the whole city was watching the game. The beer was flowing freely and we went through a bunch of cases, brah.

  Now, my buddy Sully (not that one, the other one) has a pretty big family so it’s not unusual for him to be hanging out with a couple of his brothers, or cousins, or half-cousins once-removed, or basically anybody named Sullivan. They’re all related in this town one way or the other.

  Anyway, Sully was with a cousin, but it wasn’t a cousin I knew. His name was Mark. He seemed like a cool guy. He was a chef at a fancy-pants restaurant downtown. I’d heard the name but I don’t eat at fancy restaurants very often. The girl I was with did though and the two of them hit it off pretty well. I really didn’t spend that much time talking to him. I was drinking beer with my eyes glued to the big screen TV as the game unfolded. We were winning but honestly the team looked pretty bad – sloppy, under-confident, not the kind of well-oiled machine I was used to watching and rooting for. But, hey, we were winning and I was pretty confident that my hometown squad would pull off another victory.

  I was feeling so confident that I took my eyes off the game for a minute and headed into the kitchen for another cold beer. Just as I was closing the refrigerator, Sully's cousin Mark came in for the same reason. I handed him a fresh one and we both popped them open.

  “Cheers to victory,” I said as I took a swig. “I think we’ve got this one in the bag.”

  “Sorry, man. I have to disagree with you.” He took a sip.

  I was kind of outraged. “What? We’re winning!”

  “Yes, but they’re sloppy and I think it’s going to cost them.”

  “Oh yeah, want to bet on it?” I could feel my competitive nature rising.

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to bet with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I only bet one thing. It scares a lot of guys off.”

  I wasn’t having it. “Well, you work at that fancy schmantzy restaurant right? If the Red Team wins, I get a free dinner for two at your restaurant. Does that scare you?”

  “No, I would be happy to cook for you. I love to cook. I’d comp you guys a meal anyway.”

  “No, no, let’s make it a bet. You said you always bet the same thing, what is it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think it would appeal to you.”

  “I’m game, what is it?”

  “Okay, if you win I’ll comp you guys a nice meal – with wine – at my restaurant. But if I win…” He looked around the empty kitchen and leaned forward, as if he was telling me a secret – “I get to suck your cock.”

  I spit out some of my beer.

  “See?” he laughed. “Not many straight guys want to follow through on that bet.”

  “What?”

  “It’s pretty simple. If I win the bet, I get to suck your cock. No gay stuff. You just whip it out, I take care of it. No homo. You can even watch straight porn if it helps.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I vaguely remembered Sully talking about having a gay cousin and I guess this was him. Or one of his gay cousins. It’s a huge family.

  “I’m not going to agree to that…”

  “I didn’t think so.” He was smug now.

  “I mean…I’m straight…”

  “I know. But why not? Aren’t you confident in your team? They are winning, after all. A pretty big lead, too. There’s really very little risk on your part. And if you win, you get a nice free dinner at a five star restaurant. Pretty sweet deal, if you ask me.”

  I thought for a minute. Or tried to think. I had nothing to lose, right? There was no way Blue Team was coming back from such a deficit. It had never happened. This free meal was as good as mine and I could take my date and make her happy as hell. Win, win.

  “So, if I did take this bet, it would be just between you and me, right?”

  “Of course, a wager between gentlemen. No one else needs to be the wiser. I wouldn’t even offer if you were really dating that girl but she told me it was pretty casual between the two of you. So, how confident are you?”

  I told you I was competitive, right? And I’d been drinking beer all day?

  I stuck out my hand. We shook. “It’s a bet. And you’re going to lose.” I took my beer and went back to watch the game.

  You probably know what happened. Biggest come-from-behind victory in history. They’re still talking about it.

  I lost the bet.

  By the end of the game I was drunk and depressed. Mark had slipped out so thankfully I didn’t have to see him. The crowd broke up rather sullenly, a bunch of depressed fans shuffling to the street. There was no joy in Mudville that night.

  And I was going to have to let a guy suck my cock. I tried not to let my panic show but I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. What I had done was sinking in.

  A block away my date took my arm and said, “I think Mark was checking you out a little.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “You picked up that he’s gay, right?”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

  “Yeah. He’s pretty cute, though, you should consider that a compliment.”

  “Uh…” I could feel my face grow red.

  “Are you blushing? Don’t worry, big guy, he knows you’re straight. We had some girl talk.”

  “Really? Abo
ut what?”

  “Oh, just girl talk. This and that. I did tell him what a big dick you have.”

  I’m sure you’re thinking, why didn’t I just back out? I thought about it. Boy, did I think about it. But part of betting is honoring those bets and as many times as I had extracted money or favors for bets in my life I felt duty bound to honor the commitment I had made.

  I had to let Mark suck my cock.

  That being said, I had to at least honor the bet – Mark didn’t have to take me up on it, right? He was probably just fucking with me, I told myself, pulling my leg. Maybe he’d let me slide? Maybe he wouldn’t make me go through with it.

  But what if he did? I wasn’t sure what I’d do. I tried to convince myself that just letting a gay guy suck your cock wouldn’t make me gay. It’s just a blow job, I’d still be the straightest guy you ever met, a jock, a man’s man. Okay, maybe “man’s man” wasn’t the best choice of words in this situation.

  Of course, I had a feeling he never let me out of it if he actually saw my cock. I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms to know I have a big dick. I’ve caught more than one straight guy checking me out in the showers at the gym. My friends tease me about it. The ladies love it. And I had a sneaking suspicion that Mark would love it too if he ever saw it. It might not be the kind of thing he would want to walk away from.

  But big deal, right? A blow job. I could close my eyes and think about girls, any girl I wanted to think about, while I got a blowjob. Hey, gay guys give good head right?

  Jeez. I was in over my head.

  The next few days were torture. I don’t know what I was expecting – a phone call, I guess. I figured Mark could get my number through Sully easy enough. But my phone didn’t ring. Which only meant one thing – Mark was waiting for me to call. Or even worse, expecting me not to call at all because he knew I had chickened out. Not only was I losing the bet I was losing the losing of the bet.

  Finally, I swallowed my pride and called the restaurant. I nervously left a message with a woman who answered, leaving my number. I had a mild moment of panic – does she know I’m calling for him to suck my dick? – and I had to pull myself together. This dick sucking thing was making me crazy.

  Then I waited.

  He had a nice apartment. Nicer than mine. Cleaner, too. And well-decorated. I noticed a severe lack of sports memorabilia which was just salt in the wound. I lost to an amateur. Somebody that doesn’t even follow the game. Just dumb luck.

  He smiled at my nervousness. “You want a beer?’

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Dude, relax. Here, sit down. Drink this.”

  I took the cold beer and sat on the couch. He grabbed one too and sat in a chair opposite me. I had been nervous that he would sit next to me. I was jumpy as hell.

  “Dude, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going to hold you to the terms of the bet.”

  I felt a wave of relief come over me. “You’re not?”

  “No, I can tell it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, yeah, a little…”

  “A little! You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  “Yeah, I guess it…I mean, I never, I mean, I’m not…”

  “You’re not gay, you’ve never had sex with a man, you wouldn’t want anybody to find out.”

  It sounded pretty simple when he said it.

  “Well, yeah.”

  I thought about it – I didn’t want him to suck my cock but if I didn’t let him I’d have this hanging over me every time I ever bet again. And if somebody lost to me? Man, I could never ask for payment again.

  Another thing that bugged me was how confident he’d been about me backing out. I’m a stand up guy, as good as my word.

  “It’s not a problem…”

  “Just wait a minute.” My competitive side was coming out now. “Why were you so sure that I would back out?”

  “Because most guys are afraid they’ll like it. They can’t handle that part of their personality.”

  “I can handle any part of my personality. But a gay guy sucking my dick isn’t part of my personality.”

  He smiled. “How do you know?”

  I didn’t know. Maybe he was right? What if I did like it? What if I just started suddenly wanting guys to suck my dick all the time? Okay, that seemed a little farfetched and then I realized the whole thing was stupid. So what if he sucked my dick? That wouldn’t make me gay. And so what if I liked it? I didn’t have to do it again.

  I stood up. “I have one more question – what if you can’t handle me?”

  “Then you’ll certainly get your free dinner at my restaurant.”

  He fell to his knees and moved his face close to my crotch. He caught me off guard a little – I don’t know why, I guess I thought we would move this into his bedroom but it was quickly becoming apparent that he was going to suck my cock right there in his living room.

  He started rubbing his hands on my groin.

  “Oh Jesus,” I said. It felt so strange having a man do this. Relax, bro, just close your eyes and think of a woman, any woman. A thousand female faces rushed by my mind’s eye but I couldn’t get one to stay there. I couldn’t focus – it wasn’t working. I couldn’t think of anything other than this man’s mouth on my –

  I started to get hard.

  I felt his lips and his hot breath outside of my jeans as he kissed and nibbled at my growing bulge. I couldn’t take it any more. I had to open my eyes. I watched as he bit gently at my thickening dick through my pants, nibbling and gnawing at the meaty outline of my cock, his wet mouth dampening the denim of my jeans. He ran his mouth down the length of it and back again.

  It felt good. I don’t know what I expected – that perhaps maybe no man could make me hard like a woman did – but any doubts about pleasure were evaporating. Then he removed them completely by reaching up and quickly opening my belt.

  I almost stopped him then – suddenly it seemed all too real – but before I could protest he had unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down, yanking at the fabric until he could see the thick base of my dick.

  He let out an aching moan and his tongue shot from his mouth to the exposed flesh. He continued to pull my pants down and ran his mouth along my now naked dick until it popped free and into his hungry mouth. My mind exploded with pleasure as his lips wrapped themselves around the head of my dick. He moaned as he took it, his face lips quivering as he put them around the head and began applying his tongue.

  “Your lady friend wasn’t lying,” he mumbled between licks. The head of my cock swelled and pressed against his wet lips. “I just knew it. I could see the outline through your pants. That sweet bulge.”

  His hands found the base of my prick and moved it between his lips, smacking it against his mouth and cheeks, enjoying the weight of it against his face before steering the swollen shaft back into his hot wet mouth. He moaned again as he began swirling his tongue over the head and making the upper part of my meat wet with his spit.

  He took the head in his mouth and my whole body shook with pleasure. He may not have known anything about sports but he was an all-star cocksucker. My dick felt as if it was about to burst from the pleasure and I felt my balls tighten and grow hot.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he mumbled, his lips still wet against the head.

  I nodded, at a loss for words.

  ‘Tell me you like it,” he said.

  My voice was weak and raspy. “I like it.”

  “What do you like?” He softly trailed kisses teasingly along the length of my shaft and smiled up at me.

  “I like it when you suck my cock,” I said firmly as I shoved my dick in his mouth. He wanted it rough, I’d give it to him rough.

  Up-and-down his mouth moved on my shaft and I began moaning at the hot wetness of it. I dropped my pants to my ankles as he continued to suck on the length of me.

  “Fuck yeah,” I said. “Suck that dick.”

  He briefly pulled away from his meal a
nd tauntingly looked up at me. “Make me,” he said.

  I let out an angry growl and fiercely jammed my cock between his lips.

  If he wanted to suck cock I was going to make him suck every inch of it, hard and rough. He’d think twice about making this bet again.

  I put my hands on the back of his head and shoved his mouth and slick tongue down onto my dick, burrowing it into his throat. He moaned and saliva dripped from the corners of his outstretched mouth and down onto my balls. I held him there as long as I could and then slowly pulled my cock from the tight clutch of his throat. He gasped as it slid out over his tongue, strings of hot spit connecting his mouth to my quivering and raw swollen dick.

  I kicked my pants out of the way and took off my shirt. I was naked now, standing in a strange man’s apartment fucking his face. Curiously, I didn’t care. All the anxiety and fear had evaporated and all I wanted to do now was fuck this guy’s face until I filled his mouth with cum.

  I gave him a brief moment to catch his breath and wipe the drool from his mouth but I was far from finished. I pulled his open and wet mouth down, running the length of my dick across his open lips and filling his open maw with my balls. They were already wet with his spit and he began to suck them eagerly, first one at a time and then both together, his mouth and cheeks distended by my fat sack. It felt fantastic. His mouth was slippery and wet and my balls were tight and hard. But I missed the sensation of his hot throat grasped around my cock so I pushed his head back onto my dick and started fucking his mouth hard and fast. He loved it. I popped it from his cheek and teased his searching mouth with it, making him chase it as he licked it from every angle and tried to take it back in his greedy mouth.

  I couldn't take it anymore and I pulled my thick shaft away from his mouth as I flopped back onto the big couch and spread my legs, my huge dick waving in the breeze like a flagpole.

  “Get over here,” I ordered.

  He obediently crawled to me across the floor and situated himself between my legs. His mouth hungrily returned to my dick.