Taking it for the team

[Ronl77]

 

 

 

Evening the Score     

 

At eighteen and five foot eleven inches of lean muscle, I cut a pretty picture. The victory cup held high above my head, I strutted around the pool in my racing speedo. I enjoyed the limelight, and I knew that everybody in that arena managed to sneak a peak at my package as I made my traditional lap in front of the opposing team’s bleachers. I was a big guy in my high school. I was a straight A student and captain of the cross country and swim teams. School was a golden time; I ran twelve miles every morning on the cross-country team and did laps till exhaustion in the late afternoon. The result of this effort was a tall lean and muscular body, composed of broad shoulders a narrow waist and perfect hairless bubble butt.

 

The swim meet was the final of the season; a grudge match between the two schools, and a delicious win against the rich kids from across the tracks. I guess I took the win a little too far as I waved the cup in front of the losers, and high-fived my team mates as they headed to the showers. I chatted on the pay phone in the locker rooms, and lingered till there wasn’t a soul left in the showers before stripping off and getting myself cleaned up. Night had fallen when I emerged from the school, and the parking lot was empty. A heavy rain fell on the tarmac and I cursed my tardiness, flipped up the hood on my jersey and trudged to the nearest intersection to wait for the bus.

 

I hadn’t waited long before a late model panel van pulled over to the curb and a young guy driving it leaned over to lower the window. “Need a lift?” he smiled. “Yeah, that would be great,” I shouted over the rain and pulled open the door to the van. I threw my bag onto the floor of the cab and settled into a jump seat next to the driver’s centre console. The seat was like that in a limousine, folding back and out of the way to make room for more storage in this utility vehicle. The driver was nicely dressed, and didn’t appear to be a delivery guy at all. He introduced himself as Greg as he pulled the car away from the curb and onto the deserted side street. I fumbled looking for the seat belt, and reaching over my right shoulder, I asked, “Where’s the safety belt?”

 

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, as two hands landed on my shoulders and a voice growled in my ear: “you won’t be needing it!” The hands tightened on my shoulders and literally dragged me out of the jump seat, over the seat back and into the dark void of the back of the van. Three bodies emerged from the shadows and flanked me on all sides. A worn mattress was on the floor of the panel van and all I could see was the flickering light from the driver’s window.

 

“It’s gotta be him,” whispered one of the guys in the back of the van. I started to protest, but a hand was slammed firmly over my mouth. “You did your shouting back at the pool. Now keep quiet and you won’t get hurt,” seethed the guy who muffled my scream. He slowly waved a long stiletto knife in front of my eyes and a fear like I had never felt before welled up in me. He took the knife and slid the shaft under the collar of my hoody, lifting the blade up and away from my body the fabric split open in a silent slow motion reveal. Pulling the knife away as the fabric was freed from it’s elastic waist band, the other guys grabbed the shirt from either side and tore the remainder of it’s cloth from my naked torso. My hands were grabbed and nylon cord was wrapped around them, binding them tightly. A vicious tug pulled my arms above my head and swung my body around. The others flipped me over and I could feel my Addidas pulled off of my feet, as my bound hands were secured to a U bolt on the floor of the cab. I felt a hand on my back, and the stiletto reappeared in my line of vision. The owner of the knife shifted his weight and moved the blade down past my line of sight. I felt his hand curl under the waistband of my jeans and then the knife slide down under the fabric. The denim gave more resistance than the cotton of my jersey, and the owner of the knife had to press down on the small of my back while he jerked the knife up and away from my body. The jeans split open and I could feel the stiletto travel the length of my ass, its tearing motion assisted by the other guys’ hands as they grabbed the fabric and stripped the torn jeans in two. Peeling them off my legs, they each grabbed a side of my briefs and pulled for all their might. It hurt like hell as the cotton and elastic gave way, and I was left naked and splayed in the back of the van.

 

Appreciative hands moved on my body, kneading and massaging my legs and ass. One hand cupped my balls and cock pinching and pulling until I became erect. Fingers probed my anus assisted by a steady stream of saliva dripping down the crack of my ass as the guys laughed and repeatedly spit on me. The van came to a sudden stop and I craned my neck to see out of the driver’s window. A lake was clearly visible a few meters from the vehicle. We had stopped in a glade beside a local resort not yet open for the season; the rain was still falling, dappling on the water and drumming on the ceiling of the van. The side door to the van opened, and moonlight poured in on my naked body. Greg stood triumphant at the side of the van. I could see him clearly now, and instantly remembered his down-turned face from the poolside. He swam relay for the losing team and his buddies were his cheering section.

 

He stood in the moonlight and unzipped his jacked. Standing beside me, he stripped naked along with his buddies in the van. He was shorter than me, had a wrestlers body, and tremendous upper body strength. His cock was cut and fat and grew to a good eight inches when fully erect. Climbing into the van, he parted my legs and I felt his tongue push into my asshole. He licked and chewed on my ass and balls while I squirmed under the pressure and obvious pleasure of his attention. One of the guys came forward in the van grabbing my hair and pushed his stiff cock into my mouth. He fucked my face while his buddy loosened me up. I felt hands on my ankles and my ass was lifted in the air. A bag, possibly my gym bag, was thrown under my hips leaving me completely exposed, and I felt the head of Greg’s cock press against my virgin hole. The pain was terrible as he entered me. Slowly and without hesitation he took me, his cock plunging deep inside me. I cried out but the sudden eruption of cum from his buddy splashed the back of my throat and put an end to any protest. Greg’s friend growled with delight as he continued to pump thick salty fluid into my mouth. I had to swallow or choke.

 

Greg’s rhythm as he fucked me was quickening, and to my amazement I was matching his moves. My cock, which immediately went limp when the rape began was now raging hard and I was busting to let loose with my own orgasm. Faster and faster, the pounding on my ass continued, until with a few long strokes I felt Greg’s hot sperm fill my hole. He leaned forward and chewed on my neck while his cock exploded in my hole. “You like that, don’t you,” he hissed, adding: “You might have won the swim meet, but I’m claiming the prize.” I came in a thunderous orgasm, as he pounded his cock into my ass, splashing my chizz all over the van beneath me and collapsed in exhaustion. The guys nodded their approval as my remaining cum drooled from my prick. I felt the stiff rod slowly slide out of my ass, the guy in front of me, now spent, drew his softening cock from my mouth. I panted with exhaustion and amazement at how my body could be stimulated like this.

 

I rolled onto my back, and could see the moonlight still dancing on the water. The calm didn’t last long, however, as my legs were lifted into the air and the next cock shoved abruptly into my hole. The night wore on as each guy, recovering from their earlier orgasm, fucked me again and again. For hours, the guys fucked my ass and face, two and three at a time. I came to know every expression of gay sex, interrupted only  with intermittent flashes of blinding lightning as my body was used and abused. Spread-eagled in the van; tied to a tree near the water; and at one point, binding my hands and feet together, they laid me on a picnic table, spun me around, and took turns shoving their cocks in my ass and mouth. A spirited game of spin the bottom, they all jacked off on my naked and ravaged body as the rain stopped and the sky brightened.

 

Exhausted and covered with their cum and mine, they dropped me off in nothing but my bathing suit in front of my house. They kept my torn clothes as a trophy and thanked me for taking one for the team. As they pulled away from the curb my cum-soaked gym bag was pitched out the van window and my torn calvins flapped from their aerial.

 

A few days later, the doorbell rang and a package addressed to me was on the welcome mat. Inside it, I found a series of nearly a hundred color and black and white photographs of me being fucked in every possible position. That wasn’t lightning that lit up our reveries after all, but a small auto focus camera. The look of ecstasy, hunger and excitement was clear on my face in virtually every shot.  A note scrawled on the last photo directed my attention to my bedroom window. There, parked at the curb, was the van. The side door was open and not four but six young guys were waiting at the curb laughing and glancing up at my window.

 

A moment later the front door of my house opened and I hung my head as I headed to the van. I knew that I was in for an even bigger pounding than the last, but as I strode across the lawn of my suburban home, my cock began to stiffen at the thought of all six dicks waiting to take my freshly trained hole.

 

[LehighCub]

This is one of the hottest stories I've ever read on here. You're such a great author. I wish there was more. 

[timfreo]

A lot of young guys need to learn the hard way what's best

[bottombehr]

More please!

[shinelover]

Fuck yeah, don't we all want that? I know I sure do!!

[Ronl77]

Blown to Shore

 

I hadn’t been home for some years, and was surprised to see how little had changed from my school days living by the lake. Mom was selling the house, and invited me to spend one last weekend in the home I grew up in, to help her pack and for me to spend some time with my memories.

I grew up on the outskirts of Toronto, and although it is completely developed now, at the time it was very rural and wild. Beachgrove Beach was virtually inaccessible, as it’s only entry was by crossing the railroad trestle over the river to the east of Beachgrove Road. I spent most of my youth, buck naked, frolicking on that beach.

Waking up at the crack of dawn Saturday morning, I crept out of bed so as not to wake anyone else in the house. It was 6 A.M. and there was nothing to do, without waking Mom and my brother and sister. I sat in bed and remembered what I would have done at this hour when I was in school, and rifled my old clothes in the closet to find some jogging shorts and shoes.

Off I went, a flashback to five years earlier, in Addidas side split shorts, high school t-shirt and my old runners. It was glorious, and I ran about four  miles, making my way down to the river bed of the Highland Creek and along the footpaths to the water filtration plant at the delta of the river. I hiked up to the railway and gingerly danced from railroad tie to rail as I made my way across the trestle. Nothing had changed, and I hurtled down the bluffs to my deserted beach. It was a perfect spring morning, and by now the sun had risen high enough to heat my sweat covered skin. I jogged up the beach, stripped off my clothes and strode naked out onto the sand bar. Silhouetted against the rising sun, a cabin cruiser on the horizon was headed west towards Toronto and was the only ripple in the glass-surfaced water.

I dove into the lake at the tip of the sand bar and swam in a long slow arc out into the lake and back towards shore. Rolling over onto my back and taking in the sky and sun, I was surprised to see the motor launch approaching. I continued to tread water, paying not too much attention and was considering heading for shore when a young guy on the bow of the yacht called out to me. They had closed the distance between us very rapidly, by either speed or parallax, and I hadn’t anticipated meeting anybody on or near the water while nude.

I continued to tread water as the boat neared, and with the sun behind the prow I could now see the man hailing me from the yacht. He was young, tanned and in great shape (judging form his silhouette). The engine cut out and the boat drifted the last twenty feet to where I was swimming. “Hey there,” shouted the man, “Where are we?” he continued.

“You're in West Hill,” I said pointing to the river delta, “that’s the Highland Creek.” The young man smiled, eyeing me in the water, and was quickly joined by another slightly older man, who was obviously skippering the boat. The two were a study in contrasts: the younger was blonde and blue eyed with a smooth fit body clad in swimming shorts and Sperry top-siders. The elder man, looked about thirty to me, and was darkly handsome. His body was cut, at a time when that level of definition was rare. Black or dark brown hair framed a chiseled jaw atop a muscular but lean body. He wore a Speedo bathing suit and had a neckless of leather braid dangling between rock hard pecs.

They both stood on the bow of the boat and engaged me in conversation. “Did I live near the beach, how old was I etc.” I thought they would never leave and I was beginning to tire, as the blonde, on cue from his partner, went about dropping the anchor. The boat swung about in the current and the men traversed the gunnels to the aft of the boat and stepped out onto the swim platform. Kneeling down they cast their eyes on me, as I took hold of the ladder and rested my legs and arms. The elder of the two held out his arm and motioned for me to come aboard. I panicked, I was stark naked, and began to protest when the younger of the two laughed: “We know your skinny dipping, we saw you strip off on the beach.” He held up his binoculars, as if to prove I had nothing to hide. I smiled, swallowed my pride and accepted the dark haired man’s hand. I was lifted immediately out of the water with one great pull, and found myself pressed against his near naked body. Electricity coursed through my veins at the mere touch of him, and pressed against the bulge in his Speedos and wrapped in his strong arms I almost melted.

The blonde offered me a towel to dry off with and I slipped over the railing onto the aft deck of the boat. I learned she was a thirty-four foot Pacemaker with twin diesel engines and capacity to sleep six. The guys poured me a coffee and added a slug of brandy to warm me. The coffee was nice, but the brandy hit me like a ton of bricks. I had just run three or four miles, and swam for half an hour on an empty stomach, and my head was reeling in a matter of minutes. I asked to use the head, and was directed into the main cabin, down a few steps to where the blonde was in the kitchen. I rose to my feet, took a few steps down the short ladder and found myself face to face with the blonde boys smiling visage. He was a total beauty, flawless skin, crystal blue eyes, and a gleaming smile. I stopped to take him in and a stirring in my loins revisited my encounter with the dark haired man a moment ago. I felt a presence behind me, and turned my neck to see the dark haired man coming down the steps and alighting, pressed again against my body. He smiled a Pepsodent smile, and put his hand on my shoulder. The blonde reached out and put his hand on my crotch.

My towel hit the floor as the blonde yanked it away, and kissed me deeply on the lips. I felt the dark haired man kiss the back of my neck, then between my shoulder blades and down my spine. His tongue crept between the cheeks of my ass and darted ever deeper, sending shivers of delight and discovery throughout my body. I could barely utter a gasp, though, as the blonde was tonguing my throat and pulling now on my stiffening cock.

Finally, breaking free from the blonde's french kiss, I gasped for air and was speechless to protest. His eyes widened when he looked down at my eight-inch cock, sprung and bursting with pre cum. He knelt down in front of me, and without a word took the entirety of my manhood into his mouth and deep throated me for the first time.

I was pinned between being engulfed by the blonde and penetrated by the brunette's tongue, and I was loving every minute of it. It took no time at all, before the familiar stirring of my balls warned of an eminent ejaculation and I called out to the blonde boy that I was going to blow. He clamped his hands on my hips and sank my cock ever deeper into his throat, swallowing every drop of my juice as I bucked and yelled a gutteral growl.

I was spent but still experiencing things that had never been thought of before. I bent at the waist to force my cock from the blonde’s adoring mouth. I had no idea what I was inviting with that move. In attempting to free my overly sensitive cock from the continued and agonizing tickle of the blondes tongue, I inadvertently spread my cheeks wider and bared my virgin hole to the attention of the brunette. He rose immediately and, having doffed his speedo while I was occupied with the blonde, slid his cock silently into my ass. I was stunned by the assault. It hurt, like nothing I had ever felt before, but I couldn’t protest before he had slammed all the way into me and held me in a vice like grip. The blonde held me down in front in a passionate embrace, and the brunette was pinning my hips to his pelvic bone. I looked down into the blondes eyes, tears welling up in mine from the pain of this monster cock in my ass. He smiled and whispered: “Relax, you’ll love it,” and rose to kiss me deeply again.

The brunette slowly pulled out of my ass, leaving his cock head inserted into me. He swayed back and forth and then slowly drove back into me. With his free hands, he removed his leather neckless and handing it to his buddy, all the time quickening his pace as he plowed his cock in and out of my once virgin hole. The blonde, reached out and grabbed my stiffening cock and tightened a makeshift cockring around my balls and cock, and I realized suddenly that I was experiencing some of the most intense feelings I had ever experienced.

The brunette had led me to the kitchen table and layed me across it. He abaondoned any pretence of gentility now, and proceeded to grunt and thrust like a stallion while he aggressively fucked my ass. I felt the swelling in his member as he leaned back, thrust all the way into me once more and released a stream of hot cum inside me. He collapsed on my sweat covered back, and pulled his shrinking member from my hole. It felt like I was having a bowel movement and I was filled with conflicting emotions as he popped from my sphincter. I was able to relax my ass and recover from the pounding but I missed the sensation of being possessed. I also missed the sensation of his hard cock massaging my prostate, and my rock hard cock and purple swollen balls were in need of a release.

The blonde was now pulling off his shorts and knelt in front of me, offering me his gorgeous ass. I needed no instruction as I aligned my pole with his hairless opening. He must have been lubed already, as I slipped into his ass like it was a supple glove and begin to ride him. I seemed to have fucked him for hours and was covered with sweat, from the heat of the action and being in the enclosed space of the cabin. The brunette still behind me, reached around and with a quick pull released the leather binding around my cock and balls. I blew like I had never come before, in a great huge and overwhelming orgasm. Pulling from the blonde’s ass, I continued to pump a steady stream of milk onto his back and ass, finally collapsing onto him in a heap.

I was now covered with sweat and cum, both mine and the brunette's trickling out of my hole. I rolled off the blonde’s back, and stood on unsteady legs to gaze at the handsome men in front of me….

"Let’s all go for a dip", said the blonde and still erect we all dove off the boat.

I swam to shore about an hour later, but not before I sucked off both of them and let them each have a go at my well-oiled hole. When mom asked me later in the morning if I had any memories I wanted to pack up to take home, I smiled knowing that the best memory was just created.