Argh

"Arrrrgh" I screamed as the sweat poured down my face. "Arrrrgh, that hurts coach.it hurts!!!!." But my moans only fueled Coach Johnson's determination as he worked the tennis racquet handle into my tight young ass. He knew these were not moans of pain.they were moans of pleasure, and he had been listening to them for nearly a month now. Oh how my life had changed in that month.

I had never been big enough to qualify for any of the really good sports. I'm talking about the really tough ones where you slam into other guys or the ones that make you strain every muscle while trying to pin your opponent. Those would have been the sports I would have loved.with their sweet moments of bodies pressed tightly against each other... But I usually had to settle for being the mascot, or the towel boy in the locker room. Sure, that had its benefits. I did get to see all of my classmates in the nude. And where else do you get invited to carry the sweat drenched jockstraps and uniforms of a whole wrestling team in a big double-armful of mind-numbing aromatic bliss?

Don't get me wrong, you would have never known I thought about the other boys "in that way" at all. I may have been small, but I sure got my share of dates. You see, although I had a small frame, I did have one "big" redeeming quality. Not all that massive, but at 8-1/2 inches long and about 5 inches around at the base. for "my" age it was a nice size to have been dealt.

Our school gym was equipped with a somewhat medium sized room downstairs that was used for storing spare equipment, and also contained a washer and dryer. It was my daily duty to carry those wonderful sweaty piles of wrestling uniforms downstairs and wash them after practice. Oh, how I loved that job. I would always wait until long after the last team member would go home. Then Coach Johnson would always come into the locker room and warn me to lockup the gym doors when I was finished. If only he knew what went on 'before' I finished.

The moment Coach Johnson would leave, those doors would be locked and I would practically sprint down to the laundry room. The room had rows of equipment racks and shelves running down either side. With the washer and dryer at the far end, there was about a ten-foot area where the dirty uniforms could be spread out and room for a chair to sit on while I waited for the clothes to dry. I would spread the clothes onto two piles. One was wrestling uniforms and the other pile was nothing but jock straps. I would quickly spread my prizes onto the floor and then get out of my own clothes. Once undressed, I would assume a position on all fours with my nose at the edge of the pile.

My cock would be standing at attention, pressed against the taught muscles of my abdomen as I slowly inched toward my destination. Then I would gently push my face into the pile and breathe in the musky smell of ball-sweat from the uniforms. I would savor each deep nasal breath as it would pass through my lungs and travel through my bloodstream and down to my already stiffened cock. My body would get warm and my cock would be begging for my hand, but I would restrain myself. My favorite part of this ritualistic rite of masturbation was the fantasy that was to come.

After those first few deep breaths, I would sprawl forward so that I would be lying facedown in the pile of clothes. Slowly I would move my hips up and down, simulating fucking the uniforms. I had my self control, but after a few minutes of my sweat-scented ritual, I would roll over onto my back and pull a couple of handfuls of the tangy scented jockstraps onto my face and breathe in the sweet smell of boyhood left by my friends.

With my face covered in the damp stench of young crotch and my mind lost and swimming in the overwhelming scent of musk, I would slowly reach down and begin to stroke my cock. All the faces of the young muscular bodies, intertwined together on the wrestling mats, would flash through my head. My most common fantasy, which always involved Todd Martin wrapped up like a pretzel with Chad Simington, would make my cock flex, and my fist pound my thick young boy flesh even faster. My mind's vision of their hot bulging biceps reaching and exploring each other's body for an advantage.but (in my fantasies anyway) finding each other's young cocks.was where my fantasies would always go.

Todd is your basic All-American boy. Totally hot, totally gorgeous and could possibly have the most boyishly polite and courteous personality on earth. At 6'1 and 190#, he played just about every sport there was. He had that muscular frame for which every sport had some applicable position, and he always did his best to get that spot on the team. He was the kind who would never rest until he either broke a record or was hospitalized trying.

But Chad, he was different. Chad was only about 5'10", but weighed as much as Todd. He did not play all that many sports.just wrestling. He spent most of his time in the weight room. Chad was a diehard when it came to weights, and his massive bulk on such a short frame make him look really great. Most of us thought he was taking steroids, but to mention that to Chad meant a complete ass kicking. "Pure and natural 100% beef!" Chad would reply when we busted his chops about it. "Got one side of beef for my chest and the other side of beef for my cock.want a burger?" (Yeah, nobody else got it either, but that was Chad for ya.) The combination of Todd's boyish good looks and Chad's round muscular frame would make for a million fantasies.and I think on this particular day I was on number 269.

Lying on the pile of teenage jockstraps, lost in my dream, I would unconsciously slide my young hands over the length of my shaft, lightly grazing my piss slit to catch some of the pre-cum that was gushing out. I have never had any problems with a supply of bodily fluids, and pre-cum was my favorite lubricant. I would rub it over the head of my cock as I stroked it, and my fantasy would change directions.

Chad, while reaching between Todd's legs from behind in an effort to flip him over, reaches up and cups his young opponent's bulging ball-sack. Todd's face darts around, confused and amazed, and his eyes lock with Chad's. After a few seconds of shock, Todd does what he could never imaging himself doing.he leans forward and kisses his friend.

My own cock-jerking increased to a furious pace as the two young guys in my fantasy moved into position so that their growing members could press against one another through the thin elastic of their wrestling singlets. Once facing each other, they begin to push their cocks against each other, rocking and rolling until light drips of pre-cum began to show through their uniforms.

I would be wild by this point. As usual, my fantasy was running full tilt. The intoxicating combination of the rich suffocating scent of ball-sweat covering my entire head, filling my hungry nostrils with the fire to keep my fantasies rolling, would cause me to shoot one of my gallon and a half cum shots any second. I frantically stroked my cock to the brink of explosion. I thought more about Todd and Chad in their youthful lust, and pumped even harder and faster. I could feel my balls tighten as my orgasm crept closer. The blurring pace of my hand was beginning to make my arm hurt, but I didn't care. I just took another deep breath of those wonderful sweaty clothes and was transported back to the gymnasium where Todd had moved his head down to Chad's crotch to chew on the boy's hard cock through the straining elastic.

At this point, Chad gets a look of animal lust in his eyes. He reaches up with both thumbs and deftly pops the two shoulder straps of his singlet away and lets them fall to his side. Then, in one swift motion, he slides the singlet to the floor and quickly slides his jockstrap down to his ankles, freeing his thick 6" of cock from its body-heated moist prison. He grabs Todd's head roughly by the ears and pulls it down onto his thick hairy cock. Todd gags as the young cock is brutally forced into his throat, but he does not pull away. Instead, he hungrily impales his face onto his friend's cock and sucks it deep into his throat until his nose is pressed the pubic hair. Chad appears to go into some kind of trance, throwing his head back as he grabs his friend by the hair and shoves his cock all the way into Todd's mouth. Almost in a blur, Chad's hips hammer his cock into Todd's hungry mouth.and his legs begins to tense. Todd cannot breathe, as he grabs onto Chad's legs to steady himself against the brutal fucking his mouth is taking.

Back in the real world, I am rolling around with one hand beating my cock so hard that it looked like a purple cannon waiting to shoot a flood of white gooey ammunition all over my chest and stomach. I was getting close to the prize.a bath in my own sticky semen. I wanted to cum so bad it hurt. I wanted to shoot load after load of my slippery juice all over myself.

The scene in my head turned to Chad. He was beginning to shake. I knew it would be soon that he would give Todd the drink of boy-cum he wanted. Oh how I wished it could have been real. I have seen him swallow the creamy cum so many times, and have shared Chad's orgasm in this fantasy many times as well. But I was willing to settle for this. I was pumping my own cock so fast that I could barely catch my breath. Chad is barely able to stand as he violently shakes under the pleasure Todd was giving him with his expert mouth.

I am about to cum too.

Chad's hips jerk and he doubles over. In a barely intelligible grunt, he says "Oh God, here it comes." and his hips buck with the first body wrenching spasm. The force of the cum-blast was so strong that Todd gagged and you could see his eyes turn blood red while a thin milky dribble runs down from his right nostril. But, instead of backing off, Todd regains his composure to reach around and grab his friends round muscular ass cheeks in a death grip that pulls the cum shooting cock deep into his throat. Gurgling sounds can be heard as Todd releases the spewing shaft from his throat for a moment and then violently forces the throbbing cock even deeper into his throat to swallow still more of the salty cum.

The fantasy was too much; my right hand was pumping furiously with my left hand gently cupping my balls. Frantically I forced my painful bicep to keep up its blurring pace. I was so close that I started to buck my hips into the air again and again, arching my back over and over as if in convulsions. Then, finally my balls dropped and released. Great, wonderful, waves of pleasure washed over me as the first muscular twitches of my orgasm came and my first thick stream of sticky boy-cum escaped from my cock.

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