Subject: Team Reward 11 Team Reward, pt. 11 (m/t, anal, oral, HS) Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail) Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sexual material. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, read no further. The fiction depicts unsafe sex practices. It’s fantasy. In real life, stay healthy and wear a rubber. For more of my stories, check out the Authors page of the Nifty Archive Files section or see my group at Yahoo ( Comments ail. I’m loving the feedback on this one. Sorry if I can’t reply to everyone, but your emails are what keep me writing. *********** TEAM REWARD 11 As the steam and hiss of the showers filtered in from the next room, Tony Mallone slapped aftershave liberally to his freshly razed skin. The sophomore ballplayer was just 16, but already he had one hell of a dark beard coming in, demanding a shave once, even twice a day. He sometimes considered letting it grow out, as a mark of pride in his precocious masculinity, but he knew his wide smile and dimpled Italian good looks showed better on a smooth, clean shaven face. Already he was popular among the girls in the school, and even was dating one of the senior cheerleaders, Kim Carr. It seemed that none of the girls he dated could resist the large piece of Italian meat he carried and Kim was no exception. The blonde bombshell could sure as hell fuck. Tony’s large cock plumped out a bit as he thought about his girlfriend – her curvaceous figure, he ample breasts, her moist pussy. And Tony loved that pussy. Some nights he’d tease and finger that twat for a good half-hour before plunging his meaty cock deep inside. As he finished applying the hair gel, he looked at his reflection. Examining his muscular, toned teen body, the talented center followed the ripples of ballplayer mass down to his crotch. Hard, goddamned muscle, even for a kid his age; he’d definitely taken after his dad’s beefy body type. And his dad’s hairy chest, too. Not that Tony had a full pelt, but a trail of dark black hair led straight down to his plump, uncut sausage. Yes, that cock was really filling out now, pushing out slowly but surely, its helmet head expanding beneath the ample foreskin, the length of the shaft stiffening with hard, teen-jock bone. He was full-on horned up he realized. Sometimes it hit him like that, out of the middle of fucking nowhere, a big, fat hardon and a surge of hormones that drove him wild with lust. He couldn’t wait til he was a little older, when his body had stopped its breakneck development and his libido calmed down a bit. Then again, he was sure as hell enjoying the ride. Hard every hour of the day and able to shoot his wad three, four times in a row. Only Kim was out of town for the next three days. Tony didn’t know what he was going to do. But his hand at least knew what it could for now. With a deliberate firmness, his fingers circled around his hard prickmeat, wrapping tightly, and then began to slide up and down the shaft. “Yeah, that’s the shit,” he muttered. The young jock had been getting so much pussy, he’d forgotten how nice a slow self-stoke could be. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. His young muscles stood immobile in pure jock perfection. All except for his right bicep, which knotted and flexed in a rhythmic pulse as he guided his fist up and down his thick man-salami. Guys passed him to and from the shower. Some of his teammates would pause and watch as the sophomore absorbed himself in self-pleasure. Others would ignore and walk on by. Tony didn’t care. He was horned up and charged with a full load ready to shoot. Larry Warren entered the room just as Tony was nearing his nut. He watched as the younger athlete went to town flogging his cock, making quick slapping sounds. He watched Tony’s fat nutsac bounce up and down in time to each wanking motion. Suddenly, Tony’s calves knotted up, lifting his body up on his toes, as he leaned forward, his upper body ever rigid, and shot his dick juice everywhere. Larry was impressed by the size of the load: nice, thick streams of white slime spattered against the sink and mirror. Tony came down from the high of his nut and looked up to admire the results of his effort coating the wall and bathroom. Opalescent pearls of jock nectar clung to the porcelain. His lips curled into a proud smile. Just then, a wide hand slapped his shoulder. It was his friend Larry. “Nice load, buddy,” Larry congratulated. “What’s up? Is Kim not putting out again?” He’d seen his friend driven to utter horniness before. “Nah,” Tony smiled. “She’s out of town. It’s been busting my balls, too, man. Gotta whack this thing nonstop.” “Shit, guy, you’re incredible.” Larry took his place at the sink next to Tony’s and began to shave as well. The two athletes shot the shit until it was bursa escort time to go into the locker room to get dressed. “Say Larry…” “Yeah, bud?” “I still have the notes you leant me for chemistry class. You wanna come over to my house and pick them up? You can stay for dinner, too, if you like?” “Sure, Tony, that’d be great. I’m starving, in fact.” Larry smiled to himself. He enjoyed hanging out with Tony, but it was Tony’s dad Hal that got his blood pumping. His dick plumped a little as he slung his towel over his shoulder and walked to get dressed. ************ Mike held onto Bill Farrell’s powerful thighs. The Jackson High baseball coach was lying back on his bed, while his muscleass hung over the side of the bed. Michael White, Sr. had taken off his coat and tie but still had his dress clothes on. Only his trousers were unzipped and his large cock stuck out hard and proud from the crotch. That dick was already greased up with lube and now it stuck its insistent head right in the heat of Bill’s hairy crack. “Oh, man, I’ve been thinking all day about this. I can feel those hairs tickling my cockhead.” “Yeah, I been wanting you to fuck me, Mike. Ever since I sucked you off. I don’t normally bend over, buddy, but your dick is a goddamned beauty.” Michael’s chest swelled with pride as he looked down at the hairy-chested, well-built stud splayed out beneath him. His pissslit was leaking all over Bill’s crack, adding to the thick wetness of the lubricant. “Yeah?” he growled. “Oh, yeah, you fucker. Big piece you’re carrying there. Meant to take a stud down a peg or two.” Mike pressed forward. The asslips clenched, then parted to allow the fat dickhead inside. “Shit!” Bill breathed. It wasn’t exactly painful, but he was tight – real tight – back there. “You want it, stud, don’t cha?” Slowly, carefully, he sunk more cockflesh into the warm, wet bowels of this attractive, masculine man. This was sex like he used to have with his frat brothers, just a raw, no holds barred meeting of mind and body. “Jesus, Bill, you keep squeezing your ass like that and I’m gonna blow.” Bill smiled, now aware of the power his ass was holding over this hunk of a businessman. “Sorry, guy. It’s just you’re really stretching me good. Feels awesome, but I still haven’t had a fuckpole to ride like this in a while.” “We’ll fix that, stud.” Mike grabbed Bill’s thighs and powered forward. Bill gasped as more dick was driven into him. It would reach the threshold of pain, then Michael would stop, pull back a little and paused before pushing forth again. “Man, that’s it” Coach Farrell cried. “Fuck my ass!” “Goddamned horndog coach,” White growled, and began humping his new fuckbuddy with a regular thrust. “Yeah. Big fucking cock. Shove it deeper, Mike. You got the equipment, stud, dick me deeper, man!” “Like this?” He was long-dicking now, using his strong arms to pull the burly coach onto his cock with extra force. The force of his grip drove his fingernails into Farrell’s hard quad muscle. “Hell fucking yeah! Been so long, and now I’m getting screwed right.” He reached down and tried unsuccessfully to grab Mike’s pile-driving hips. The rutting businessman just grabbed Bill’s wrists and held onto them as leverage for each inward fuck thurst. “Fuck, Bill!” Mr. White licked his lips as he began to stare intently at his fuckee. Each pummeling instroke knocked more air out of the burly coach’s lungs. “Yeah, Mike. Goddamn hot, man-to-man fuck…” “We gotta do this more. All the fucking time.” “Shit, bud. My ass is yours. That dick owns it. Fits right in there, doesn’t it buddy?” Mike smiled, his sweat beading up on his forehead. “Yeah. Fits real nice.” He pounded away and both men groaned in deep pleasure as their fucking built to a fast, furious pace. “Bill?” “Yeah, Mike?” “You coach my son, don’t you?” A nod of the head was matched with a deep grunt as White’s beefy cock reamed him deep. Lifting his head up he looked Mike in the eye and gave him a gutteral answer. “Mike’s your boy? I thought he might be. Yeah, I’m his baseball coach. Good player. Great kid.” “Yeah he is.” The two men were silent except for the sound of flesh meeting flesh. Michael White kept fucking away at the stud coach’s hole. The vicelike grip felt fantastic and he could barely control himself. Bill’s next words about sent him over the edge. “Mike, I had this fantasy last night. You. Your boy. Taking turns. Fucking me. Hard.” He couldn’t finish, but didn’t have to. Both men looked into each other’s eyes and knew they were both sharing the same fantasy. Their orgasms were deep and simultaneous. ************ John Henderson stripped off all of his gear, hanging up his pads in the locker and throwing the jersey and sweaty jockstrap onto the laundry pile. He was cursing Coach Pierson for making him run extra laps, bursa escort bayan but even in the anger, the athlete had to admit that his muscles always felt like they had a real workout after Coach pushed him like this. He heard the shower running so he wasn’t surprised to see the new recruit to the team standing under the shower, soaping up head to toe. What surprised him was how hot this kid was. The running back had real football player bulk, but unlike a lot of the high school kids John had seen visiting the program and practicing with the team, this one had real athletic power behind the muscles. He could tell. Henderson turned on the shower head next to Mike’s and began showering off the sweat and dirt. Jesus, his cock was already getting hard. Mike was, too. The younger would periodically turn around to face John, taking in the sight of the ruggedly handsome blonde college jock. The corner back’s body was medium-height, powerful and squat. Below a firm, rounded belly covered in blonde fur stood out a long, thin, perfectly round cock. It had to be eight or nine smooth inches and seemed to be a mismatch with the jockstud’s thick physique, but Mike himself excited by the sight. It was big, but different from Coach’s mammoth cock, more inviting and less intimidating. Silently, Henderson stepped up to White and circled his lower back with a powerful arm. The two horned up men moaned as their heated naked flesh pressed against each other. John had his right leg wrapped to the side of Mike’s beefy thigh and was using his spread legs as leverage in fucking his meat against the length of Mike’s own sizeable hardon. He licked up the length of the high schooler’s corded neck, taking time to bite gently at the kid’s earlobe. He was rewarded with a deep, gutteral moan the feeling of two running back hands gripping his flexing buttocks. “Shit, kid, you’re hot stuff. You’re really gonna be playing with us next year?” His fingertips dug into the thick muscle of White’s upper back. “Yeah. I’m pretty excited.” Mike replied, attacking the side of John’s handsome jock face with his tongue and mouth. “Yeah, I can tell.” John laughed and ground his cock into White’s to make his point. He could feel White blush. This kid was too fucking adorable. “What’s your name, kid.” “Mike. Mike White.” “Well, Mike. What do ya say we go back to my room and I fuck that fine ass of yours?” The two hunks met in a deep, wet kiss. When they broke, Mike was almost swallowing his words, he was so horny. “Sounds hot… Real hot.” “Yeah, stud?” “Yeah. But what would Coach say? I mean, he um, well he did bring me up here and I…” “You mean he’s been fucking you nonstop?” Mike nodded sheepishly. “Mike, bud, I know. And I know Pierson. Why do you think he made me run laps after practice?” The wheels turned in Mike’s head as he was slow on the uptake. “You mean…?” “Let’s just say I wasn’t fucking up on the football field this afternoon.” “Goddamn,” Mike laughed. John laughed too. “Goddamn is right. Coach can be a sneaky bastard when he wants. Now… what do you say about that fuck?” “All right, man. I’m yours for the evening.” The two men met in another kiss, until the sound of someone’s throat clearing drew their attention away from each other’s horned up bodies. Mike thought he’d never see a hotter sight than what stood before him. It was Heath Larson, the star quarterback for State and this year’s Heisman contender. He stood in his nude, proud glory, his magnificent torso bared and his vascular cock sticking out between his knotted athletic thighs. Behind him stood Brian Pierson, bulging arms wrapped around the firm athletic flesh. Mike swore he could see Coach’s bull balls hanging and swaying between Heath’s powerful legs. “You boys OK on your own? I gotta work with Larson here, get him ready for the game.” Almost absently, Coach’s big paw mauled Heath’s bulging pec, twisting and teasing the large nipple in his thick fingers. The brick-red, rubbery areole stretched and snapped back to a tight eraser-sized nub as Coach’s large fingers pulled and let go of it. Heath arched his back and hissed while his Coach’s ministrations were getting the best of him. “Henderson, why don’t you take White here and show him the ropes, give the kid a look around campus. White, I’ll give you a call tomorrow and see about getting you back to Jackson County before your game. Looking forward to seeing you play again.” “Sure Coach,” Henderson replied. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow Coach,” Mike muttered unable to finish his words as Coach’s left hand wrapped itself around Larson’s meaty erection. The quarterback rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and moaned. “Good, then. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” With that Coach removed his beefy hands and turned Heath toward the locker area and guided the hard-cocked QB escort bursa in that direction. When he was gone, the two young men connected again, wrapping arms around each other’s brawn. “Shit,” Mike gasped. “That was fucking hot. Heath Larson. Does Coach fuck him?” “All the fucking time. I think you’re gonna like playing for State, buddy.” “Wow.” The two stood silently. John turned off the water and turned back to stare into Mike’s eyes. What an amazing, good looking jock, he thought. Tonight was going to be great. Just then the two heard a loud metal crashing sound. Only it wasn’t just a single crash. It was repetitive, like someone banging cymbals almost. The metallic ring echoed in the lockerroom as the two athletes stood transfixed. “Holy fucking shit,” John muttered. “What?” White asked. “Quiet. Follow me.” Mike followed Henderson’s beefy frame. He savored the vision of John’s meaty ass flexing and swaying side to side as the big lug padded quietly on the wet cement floor. They continued around the corner and down the room til the two men stood at the end of one of the locker row. “Fuck me, fuck me! Harder, Coach. Fuck the shit out of your player, man. Big fucking dick driving me wild…God, Coach you’re a fucking madman.” It was Larson getting the hell pounded out of his ass. Coach had his arms up bracing his upper body against the metal locker doors. In rapid fire pace, he thrust his hips forward, sending Heath’s athletic frame charging into the metal, where the muscle would hit with a loud bang, then rebound back. Heath couldn’t talk now, his hardbody was nearing whiplash with the brutal assault Coach was giving him. The quarterback’s talking had regressed to loud moans of pleasure, thrown in with the deep grunts of discomfort. Coach pulled back, his thick scepter extracting itself from the tight vice of his player’s guts. He backed up til only the bloated cockhead remained nestled inside. Mike and John stood in admiration as they watched eleven inches of fat cockshaft twitch and swell in place. Heath was huffing, his chest heaving as he tried to recover and catch his breath. “Look at me, son.” Coach barked his order. Slowly, Larson turned around. The look on his reddened face was distant. He opened his eyes wider as he looked at Coach. It was a look of desire that cut deeper than just sex or happiness. The star athlete was possessed in every sense of the word. “Gonna fuck you right, Larson. Give you what you been wanting. Now… Are you gonna play like you were meant to come Saturday? Not like a fuckin’ college boy. Gonna play like a man?” “Yes sir!” Heath stood, his legs spreading wide a part to get a little more cockmeat up his hole. He was sweating and shaking now, like a man with the DTs. “Not gonna fuck up this week, are ya?” “No, sir. Gonna play ball like a pro, sir. Like a man.” “All right then,” Coach growled. Hawking a wad of spit, he projected a missile of saliva right square onto Heath’s boy-next-door face. The stud closed his eyes then opened them again. Coach laughed. “Time for someone to get fucked, then.” Bam! The two men slammed forward into the lockers, going full-throttle at a deep, nuts to butt rut right in front of John and Mike. The two ball players were so turned on their nuts ached. Mike was the first to start jacking his dick, but John was soon behind him. They approached the rutting coach and player duo, and watched Pierson pound 230 pounds of quarterback muscle over and over again into fuck oblivion. Heath’s cock was red and swollen and surely ached from the hard beating it was getting against the locker. Still, a trail of clear, dewy liquid ran down its length smearing up against the door and creating a spider-web gossamer of pre-cum each time the cock pulled away from the metal. White and Henderson pounded their meat as the watched the Coach’s magnificent, burly backside in action, flexing and thrusting. The man had one powerful, strong ass, two cheeks of sheer masculinity. Mike’s second volley of cum coated those ass cheeks, the first having painted the man’s upper back. By his third shot, John’s nuts were turning inside out, coating his virile coach from shoulder to ass. “Ah!” Coach cried out. “That’s it boys. Fucking shoot your jock cream all over me. Is that your load Henderson? Making its way down my asscrack? Goddamn big load, boys. Oh fuck!” Coach was losing it now, nailing Heath’s ass without mercy as both men gave a blood-curdling yell and shot their seed. The two men stood rigid as their bodies shook and their orgasms unfurled. When they were down, Coach kept his rigid cock up his quarterback’s tail and sat the two men down. Gently, yet possessively, he wrapped his arms around Larson’s bod and caressed the abused, pummeled muscles. “Way to take it, Larson. Fuck, if you could take that, you can take anything those pro players can dish out.” Lazily he stroked the athlete’s shortly clipped hair and clammy, sweat-drenched forehead. “On the field or off.” “Yeah, Coach?” “Damn straight,” he said his cock throbbing deep up Larson’s guts. (to be cont.)

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