Jock Auction (8 page)

I was going to ask him if he was okay, my climax having perhaps taken the edge

off my sudden, unexpected dominant streak, but Craig wasn’t done yet. Legs still

splayed, body slumped low against the wall, I watched as he jerked his dick with one 48
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hand while the other dipped into his hole, two fingers first, then three as he pounded himself. I gripped his wrist and pushed it deep, holding it there a second as he

grimaced, teeth clenched, before setting up a rhythm on him, using his hand like a dildo to stimulate his ass.

“You’re a dirty little fag, Craig,” I told him, knowing the insult would light some weird fire inside of him. “Look at you, well fucked and you can’t stop playing with your ass.” He smirked at me.

“This is coming from the straight guy who just fucked another dude.”

His ass was making wet, sloppy, squelching sounds as I slammed his fingers

home. It only took a few more strokes before he was over the edge, six or seven blasts spattering across his chest, all the way up to his chin. Still holding his wrist, I pulled his messy fingers and used them to scoop up the fresh juice across his nipples, guiding it all into his mouth. Craig’s lips closed hungrily around his hand, throat gulping as he swallowed the cream.

I could feel my legs cramping, so I allowed myself to topple back until I was

sitting on my ass, a half-pace away from him. Craig was panting hard, eyes still glassy. I knew even without looking that we’d both be close to bright red.

Eventually, he spoke. “You gonna get weird on me?”

I squinted over at him.

“Nah,” I decided, after a moment’s thought. “But I might not tell Jeff about it.”

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Chapter Three

“How long before your parents are home?” I asked him. Craig was still sitting,

legs splayed but tipped over, hips angled. I was lying back with my arms crossed

behind my head, trying to bring my breathing back to normal.

It was weird, I should be feeling freaked-out—I mean, I just fucked a guy, fucked

him in the ass—but I wasn’t. I’d gotten so crazy, so worked up last time, and yet this time I’d sucked dick and fucked ass, and it wasn’t registering, wasn’t tipping me over the edge. I didn’t understand my own head sometimes.

“Not for ages,” Craig told me. “And it’s just my mom.”

I looked up at him, lifting my head off my arms, but he had a “don’t ask”

expression, which kinda said it all. I nodded to him.

“Then you wanna take me into the shower?”

Funnily enough, he did, and we ended up standing closer than space really

demanded as the hot water rushed over us. Craig had a handful of soap and was trying his utmost to get it across my pecs while simultaneously pinching my nipples,

something I was doing my very best to avoid happening. It felt liberating to just mess around like that somehow.

“Turn around,” I told him, watching as Craig slowly moved under the spray until

he was facing the tiles. “Hands up.”

He did what I told him to, palms flat at shoulder level, resting his head forward

until his tangled bangs were pushed up against the wall too. I took a moment to look at him.

Sure, nobody would confuse him for a girl. He was slim, almost painfully so. But

his body still had the unmistakable outline of a boy: narrow waist and wider—

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comparatively, at least—shoulders, with long, slender legs, a tight, compact ass, and skin that was pale and creamy white.

I stepped up close behind him, dipped a soap-slicked hand down to his butt. He

lifted his hips back against me in response. I felt my fingers slide down between his cheeks until their tips found his slicked hole, still loose from where I’d fucked him and then helped him finger himself to his own rough climax.

I could hear him—half groaning, half purring—as I let my fingers dip inside,

corkscrewing against him. Only a finger or two but enough to get him arching his

back—this was meant to be cleanup, I reminded myself, though my quickly inflating

dick seemed to have other ideas.

I couldn’t stop myself, grabbed my cock with my other hand, let my fingers ease

across its length. Craig was peering down around his hip to where I was jerking off, and I knew what he’d say before he even started.

“You gonna put that in me again, Kyle?”

I sighed, a little contented, a little horny—okay, a whole lot horny—and a little

surprised that I was going to put up such a mediocre resistance. Instead, I draped my body against his back and let my dick find its way to rest between his cheeks.

“You want this?” I asked him, mouth close to his ear as I humped and ground my

cock between the taut muscles. He chuckled in response.

“Don’t make me use my fingers again.”

I had a sudden vision of him, body tense, legs spread almost as wide as he could

get them, slumped low against the wall on his bedroom floor as I watched him force half the digits of one hand into his ass, all the time frantically pulling on his dick. He’d lost his load when I took his wrist and banged him hard with his own fingers.

He was trying to impale himself now, lifting his ass up so that he could maybe

guide the blunt tip of me inside without using his hands. Now it was my turn to laugh.

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“You’re such a little horndog,” I told him, using one hand to press my knob

against his entrance. “But I love that you need it so much.”

One sharp shove, a jerk of my knees, and I was in him, a sudden hiss of air from

between his clenched teeth the only reaction. Then I felt his ass clench and twitch around me, his hips setting up a rocking, twisting rhythm as he moved himself on me.

“Yeah, that’s it,” I gasped, as Craig did his best to milk the fuck out of me. I

wrapped my arms around his narrow chest, tried to match his rhythm with a

complementary one of my own. I could feel his ribs under the thin layer of flesh as I pushed my mouth against the nape of his neck.

“You fuck…so good…for a straight guy,” he grunted.

I answered with a quick twist of my pelvis, sending my cock grinding into the

walls of his ass and making him arch his back again and rise up on tiptoes. I brought him down again with a hard smack against his left ass cheek.

“Like that?” I asked, and he nodded and grunted as I slapped his wet flank once

more, tried to force every inch of myself into his tight confines.

Even though we’d only done it a short while back, I couldn’t last long. Something

about the shower sex and Craig’s willingness to give himself up to the moment—and, yes, his seemingly natural submissive tendencies, which weirdly brought out my own alpha-male aggression—was conspiring to tip me over the edge much faster than I

guess I’d normally pride myself on.

There must’ve been a giveaway, because he started to ride my dick harder, use

shallow, bucking motions to slam himself on me. I knew Craig wasn’t jerking off

because his hands were still against the wall of the shower, so I reached down and let his thick cock slide through my loosely clenched, soapy fingers. Fuck, he had a big dick.

“Inside me, Kyle. Fucking do it.” I lifted myself up onto my toes, pounded hard as I toppled over the precipice. I could feel Craig’s cock swelling even fatter in my fist, knew he was just as close.

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Then it was too much, too incredible a sensation, and I was firing load after load inside him feeling his dick twitch and his body shudder as he went off in my hand. I dug my teeth into the back of his shoulder, tasted wet skin and soap.

For a moment we stood there, bodies finally still, only the water moving across us.

I settled down and felt my dick slide out of Craig’s sticky clutches. A final squeeze or two on his shaft, and then he twisted against me, trying to pull its sensitive length from my fingers.

“Sorry.” I laughed, but he laughed back knowingly.

“No, you’re not.” It was good-natured. I shrugged, even though he was still facing away from me.

After that it was washing up as normal, with only the tamest of playing around as

we both got clean. As I left, my phone bleeped and I saw I had a message from him, the only one since we’d arranged that first Saturday.

Wish U fed me that last load.

Man, he was pretty kinky when you got through the shell.

Maybe next time I’ll make you choke on it ;)
, I thumbed back.

I knew that would press his buttons. And also knew that—straight or not,

confused or otherwise—I’d be back, because I enjoyed being with Craig too much to be able to stay away.

I was surprised that I wasn’t more worried by those feelings too.

I tried to process it the following day and then again in school on Monday, but

somehow none of the pieces quite fit together when I was on my own. Not like how

they seemed to fit when I was with Craig anyway. Then, it wasn’t gay or straight or bi or whatever—it was just two people connecting and taking the steps, which felt natural.

I was mulling that one over at lunch, sitting with the rest of the team as usual, and trying to decide if I was more freaked-out by the idea of possibly being bi or the idea that Craig had somehow enchanted me, when my phone buzzed.

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I knew it would be Craig, and I knew I should save it, wait until I was on my own

and could read it and reply to it properly. Then again, I was never much good at

delayed gratification.

Anyway, my brain reasoned it might not be him, so there was no harm in

checking. I slid my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it.

Yes, it was Craig. Yes, it was dirty.

I should have put it away; I knew that, but I didn’t. I started to thumb out a reply.

After all, if I replied fast, maybe I’d get another message sooner. The thought of that sent a ripple down to my cock.

Before I could finish, Jeff had snatched the phone off me. I watched in horror as he peered at the screen, reading out Craig’s message.

“‘I really want to feel your cock inside me again’,” he crowed, obviously enjoying my sudden embarrassment. “Dude, looks like you got a ripe one!”

I knew I’d saved Craig’s number as just “C,” not his whole name. If Jeff scrolled

up, though, looked at the earlier message, he’d see the address and the organizing we’d done for the auction, and that would totally give the game away. I felt like my heart was switching between beating out my chest and freezing up altogether.

“Come on, give me my phone, dude,” I asked him, trying to sound like it wasn’t a

big deal. Jeff wasn’t having any of it, though.

“‘I stroked myself thinking about you stroking me,’” he exclaimed. “Man, this

chick is nasty!”

“Jeff, come on, give me…” I started, but I didn’t have time to finish. Louis had

looked up from where he’d been quietly eating his lunch, dumped his fork with a loud metal clatter on his tray, and stuck out his hand practically into Jeff’s face.

“Gimme the phone,” he drawled, managing to look both uninterested and

intimidating at the same time. I watched as Jeff considered his options for a moment.

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“Whatever, dude,” he said, finally, letting my cell fall into Louis’s hand. “I got enough nasty chick action to keep me busy, you know what I mean?” He looked around the table for the understanding whoops and chuckles, but I was too busy staring at Louis to notice. I could see him scrolling up and down a little, tapping some on the screen.

“Yeah, sure looks like you’re getting some attention, Kyle,” he said, finally,

looking up and grinning at me. “Sounds like things are getting seriously interesting.”

I managed a shrug and held my hand out to him. He smiled again, paused, and

then carefully placed the phone into my palm.

I thumbed the lock key as soon as I could, stuffed the phone into my pocket, and

tried to make it look like I hadn’t entirely lost my appetite. Eventually the team decided it had suffered enough cafeteria misery, and we headed out to afternoon practice. I hung back, though, digging my cell out again.

Craig’s message was still on the screen when I unlocked it, but I realized that

Louis had already replied. He must’ve done it quickly while I was still trying not to have a breakdown back at the table.

U got my dick hard surrounded by dumb jocks
, he’d written.

I felt ice in the pit of my stomach. I mean, he was right. I had gotten hard. But was he writing about me or himself?

The question preoccupied me all through practice, enough that I ended up

running laps after Coach got fed up of too many fumbled passes. I was trying not to stare at Louis while I did it—he caught me last time in the showers, after all—but every so often I couldn’t help but glance over to where he was.

I wanted to talk to him, to ask him what was happening and—dumb, I know, but I

couldn’t help myself—if he thought what I’d been doing with Craig made me bi or gay or a pervert or what. But how could I start that sort of conversation with someone?

After a few dozen laps going around and around and around, you don’t get dizzy,

you just get nauseated, and I was feeling pretty rough by the time Coach took pity on JOCK AUCTION | 55

me and let me go get changed. Some of the guys had already showered, and I was

going to be late if I wasn’t quick myself, but I knew some time under the hot water would help distract me from my churning stomach.

Sure enough, after a couple of minutes of it flooding down onto me, I was

beginning to feel halfway human again. There were only a few people showering by

that point, one of whom—I’d quickly spotted—was Louis. I’d made up my mind not to

stare, though, and took a spot a couple of faucets apart from him, trying to focus on anything but the repetitive questions I’d had going around my head all afternoon.