Date: Sat, 10 Nov 2007 01:15:53 -0500
From: trunkmoose@hotmail.com
Subject: Making Use of Bubba 2

Trigger strutted, a naked but proud Nubian warrior, freshly
showered with a gym towel wrapped tight around his narrow
waist, into the doorway of Coach's office,

 "Say, Bubba, what's taking so fuckin'...' and he shut up,
laying eyes on his linebacker bud's rosy red n'rock hard
piece of meat, shining with creamy rivers of precum.

Trigger Jones stood there with his mouth hung wide open.
6'2''and only 185 pounds, Trigger seemed kinda small next to
Bubba, but Trig had the command authority of his position as
quarterback and the young black man was used to being in
charge.

"Coach.. Bubba..,what the freakin' hell is..."

"Shut your goddamn gob, Trig, and drag this big goofball and
his leaking hardon to a cold shower, I gotta think."

Their coach waved them out of his space, like nothing was
new or different, but as Trigger pulled on his big buddy's
arm, tugging his pink ass off the coach's desk and out into
the hallway,

he had a hard time pretending that the big lunk's fuckpole
was the only dick in the neighborhood that was poking out,
sure as hell, Trigger's coach had something alive, damn big
and stiff and alive, jerking around in his official coach-
type blue gym shorts.

At this point, with the sex tension and testosterone and the
two big hardons in the room, Trig couldn't help but notice
that his long thick pole was quivering, eager to get in
action with whatever sex shit was going down.

Jonah couldn't help but see his quarterback boning up,
mesmerized by his own coach's crotch, and the older man's
rigid meat let loose, burping out a couple slugs of thick
ooze into his jock too, but then he growled,

"Get Bubba the fuck in the showers, Trig, and we'll talk
later."

In the hallway outside the Coach's office, guiding his huge
friend into the now empty shower room, Trigger scanned his
buddy over. Bubba's nine incher had finally started to
soften and to retreat slightly, his dark and fleshy foreskin
moving to cover the purple, but getting pinker, slimy, shiny
glans of his cockhead.

Dragging the big guy under a showerhead, and turning the
water to cool, Trigger muttered to his teammate,

"Bubba, what the hell, I thought he was just gonna cut ya
from the team?"

But big Tucker just blinked, dazed and wide-eyed.

Pushing the shower knob all the over to icy cold with one
big hand, he shoved Bubba's close shaved under the
showerhead with his throwing hand, shoving his giant
teammate's head back and forth under the frigid water, and
waited for the screaming and shouting to start.

As Trigger watched Bubba's big cock turn into a fat and
flabby pink worm with a thick overhang, he let some of the
shower's icy spray rain down on his own spiked nipples and
pumped pecs,

and run down through the black curly hairs leading under the
white gym towel, into his crinkly pubes, chilling and
cooling down his horny and stiffening, ebony cock.

Glancing over through the windows to the Coach's office,
Trigger could see him talking on the phone, and he could
tell, Jonah was pissed off.

Bubba Tucker flushed crimson, almost as fiery red as his
dickhead, from his neck to his tight, almost marine short
brushcut.