Date: Sat, 1 Mar 2008 01:30:41 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Tastes Like Team Spirit

			  TASTES LIKE TEAM SPIRIT
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

Gordon sat on the bench while his teammates showered, changed and started
leaving. That was the hardest part, them saying good-bye. Several of them
came over and patted his back, saying, "Good game, man!" That one really
hurt, on account of he had totally sucked out there!

"Tough luck, dude!" That one fit better, if still stinging.

"Hey, Gordo, what happened out there?"

That gave him the opportunity to lash out. "What happened?" he assaulted
Eric, the hapless victim of his pent-up rage. "I got blitzed, is what
happened! That halfback from Benton had me covered worse than a bad hairdo!
Where the hell was my defense out there tonight?"

"We tried!" Eric was a defense lineman, he ought to know. "That new guy is
one tough sonofabitch! He had his own linemen blocking us and he could
squeeze through a hole in the line a flea couldn't have gotten through!"

"I can't throw a pass if I'm too busy dodging the bastard!" Gordon
groaned. "We didn't just lose out there. We got trashed!" And he was the
quarterback and bore the brunt of the defeat! He should have adapted his
tactics to this halfback, concentrated on running the ball himself or
making hand-offs instead of passes. But damn it, his pass was his strongest
feature, he could land a football in the arms of a man from fifty yards
away and get within a few feet of a man from even further.

So they'd lost this game, and lost it big-time. 37-7! A thirty-point
spread! And he was the quarterback of the team on the losing end of that
number! God! How was he going to get any kind of college scholarship with
that sitting on his record in his senior year? How was he going to even
face people in his classes in the morning? Face the coach tomorrow
afternoon? God, he'd figured Coach would have been waiting for him to get
in the lockerroom! Where the fuck was Coach? He'd been waiting for Coach to
come ream him out but good about the loss. Instead, the man had been
conspicuously absent.

So he sat on the bench until Coach could come get him. Facing him was a
mirror, he looked up into the grimy figure that he was, slumped on the
bench in defeat. A large youth on the cusp of true manhood, the sheath of
dark brown hair, with his powerful arms, broad chest, muscled legs...none
of which had done him a lick of good in the game today.

"I should have plowed through that asshole, knocked him on his ass!" he
growled to himself, flexing his arms. "I could have done that, maybe a
penalty, but taken his ass out of there!" Would'a, Could'a, Should'a, his
grandma had always said, put them all together and they're not worth a hill
of beans! You got to work with Will, Can and Do!"

"God, what a lot of tripe!" Gordon said to himself when he thought that. "I
stunk out there today and that's all there is to say." He dropped his face
into his hands again, God, when was Coach going to get here and chew him
out like he was supposed to....

"Hey, Gordon!" came the cheery voice.

Oh, Jesus! "Hey, Bradley." Gordon said. He didn't have to look up to
identify that voice, it had reverberated through a megaphone at football
games for the last two years or more. Bradley Iverson, head of the
cheerleading squad. Cheerleaders were supposed to be girls, but Bradley had
worked his way onto the squad somehow. True, he could outcheer any of them,
and was strong enough to let them work some pretty strenuous routines. Like
a diamond, one girl's foot on each of his shoulders, and a fourth atop
those two. But...wasn't a guy who wanted to be a cheerleader usually a
sissy?

"Come on, man, turn that frown upside down!" Bradley urged him. The problem
was, Gordon though ruefully, that wasn't fake enthusiasm Bradley was giving
him, the guy was just that unreservedly cheerful. Did the guy ever have a
bad day? Ever?

"Why the fuck should I?" Gordon answered.

"So you had a rough time out there today." Bradley said. "We all end up on
the down side of things sometimes."

"I should have concentrated on hand-offs and plowing the line myself."
Gordon said. "I just kept trying to dodge him and throw passes, and he kept
right on sacking me."

"So you'll know how to win the game next time." Bradley said. "Come on,
that's the ticket to being a winner!"

"I'm not a winner, I'm a loser!" Gordon snarled at him. "And because I'm a
loser, the whole team's a loser! Which means you're a cheerleader for a
losing team!" He was looking up, now, seeing Bradley, the dark black hair,
the too-handsome face which bordered ever so slightly on the feminine
somehow, though no one feature was there he could point at and declare it
female. Just the overall pattern...or maybe it was because Bradley was the
sole male student on the cheerleading squad.

"Hey, come on, where's your team spirit?" Bradley said. "You got to shuffle
this off and stand up and show your pride!"

God, this guy was really getting on Gordon's nerves! He liked feeling angry
about it, that was better than the self-loathing he'd been wallowing
in. "You want me to show my pride! I'll show you my pride!" It's no fun
getting your pants down with that stupid girdle of pads that cover your hip
bones and buttcrack, not to mention the pads at the knees further balking
him, but in his anger, he managed it, and he waggled his cock at the
too-cheerful team-booster. "Here's my pride! Let's see you cheer that!"

Bradley looked down at Gordon's dong, and up at Gordon's face. Then he took
a step foward and Gordon gasped. Bradley had just grabbed hold of his pud!
His dick was being held, and now it was being pumped while that
too-cheerful face was grinning into his!

"Is this cheering you up?" Bradley asked him.

"Guh!" was all Gordon got out.

"You're the team's quarterback." Bradley went on as he pounded Gordon's
prick. "Everyone depends on you. If you're down, the team's down. We have
to get a grin back on your face. Come on, buck up!"

"Uh, uh, guh!" was all Gordon managed. Shit, this was so fucking hot! He
put on the football gear, he always felt like some sort of fucking Norse
god, and all he needed to complete that was a worshiper! And he had one
now.

"How about letting one of your biggest boosters help himself to some of
that pride of yours?" offered Bradley.

"Guh, uh, aw, yeah, fuck, yeah!" groaned Gordon. His hand came up, a slab
of beefy paw he slapped onto Bradley's shoulder and shoved him
downwards. Bradley obediently buckled to his knees. His hand had never left
Gordon's pud and Bradley leaned in and lifted the schlong up to his lips
and scarfed it down.

Oh, Jeez, but that felt so fucking good! Better than the blowjobs he'd
gotten from the silly girls that giggled at him in the halls when he'd take
them out on the town, eat a burger and fries, then to a movie, and
afterwards, into the park on the hill overlooking town, and the girl would
be more than glad to lean over and ply her lips on his love-pole. But God,
Bradley had them beat from the very first, that male mouth was shoving his
prod down the deep, dark, warm, moist throat, and he didn't stop until the
entire length was inside, and greased with hot saliva, and then, only then,
did he release the now-slimy prick as he slid back up again. Fuck, yeah,
better than any girl he'd ever had! With his pud all slicked up, now
Bradley could, and did, send that dong all the way down and all the way up
with each athletic stroke of that cheer-laden face.

"Aw, fuck, yeah, God, yeah!" Gordon grunted as those lips stroked him into
that warm delight of increasing passion. "Come on, you little pom-pom
shaker, suck that quarterback cock, love my football muscle, fuck, yeah!"

That spurred Bradley to move faster, now he was steaming up and down
Gordon's shaft, he was milking that joy right out of Gordon, the passion
was now a palpable presence in his pud, he wanted to cream, shoot right
into that hot little happy-happy, joy-joy mouth, really choke that voice
once and for all. It had grated on him so much in the game tonight, urging
him to fight, fight, fight, and him weary and trying to figure out some way
to avoid that halfback steamroller that seemed to unerringly zero in on him
no matter how he bobbed and weaved. Falling yet again, hearing that voice,
it had combined into the self-hatred that had consumed him, well, now he
had that voice stifled, it was stuffed shut with his cock, he could drench
it with his come and shut it up forever!

His balls were boiling now, he could feel the spunk churning in there, he
was going to shoot a thick, hot, large load for sure! "Here it comes, you
fucking cocksucker, here it comes!" he grunted as his climax built up from
within. "Take it, take it all, take it, uh, uh,
FUHH--FUHH-FUUU-FUCKKKKKHHHHH!"

His load was as hard as he had expected it to be, he never whacked off the
day before a game, over forty-eight hours worth of teenaged jism was built
up in his testicles, and he unloaded the whole fucking lot into Bradley's
mouth. As he'd expected, courtesy of his carseat experience with the girls,
Bradley wasn't able to handle it all, he caught the first couple of
squirts, then he had to let go of it, and like those dumb bimbos in his
car, he spurted his wads right into Bradley's hot little, dark little,
pretty little face, Bradley got it in his face, he got it on his eyes, on
his nose, on his cheeks, on his lips, on his chin, and from there it
dripped liberally onto Bradley's chest, smearing white jizz over the school
logo across Bradley's chest.

Bradley's face was soft in a rapture of his own, and Gordon saw how Bradley
was panting.

"Oh, no, you don't, fucker!" was all he got out, and then Bradley's pud,
which he'd been whacking while he sucked on Gordon, sprayed onto Gordon's
legs and shoes. Gordon felt the hot spunk soak his socks, wet his legs
beneath.

"God damn it!" Gordon snarled. "I didn't tell you that you could come on
me, did I? Did I?"

Bradley grinned up at him, irrepressible even when splattered with come. "I
just assumed you didn't mind." he said. "Point is, are you feeling better
now?"

Gordon considered this. "Well, I'd feel better if I didn't have your cream
on my legs, but yeah, I feel better now."

"You ready to lead our team to victory next weekend over Gadsen?"

Gadsen? Sure, he could do that. "Yeah, yeah, I think I can take them. Their
defensive line sucks." He'd use those Gadsen boobs to work on his line
drives. Plow through them until they broke down crying. Hell yeah!

Bradley saw the mean grin on his face and grinned back with a good-natured
one of his own. "Well, then, I guess my work here is done." He said. He
reached up to his face with a forefinger, wiped the big blob of Gordon's
come off one cheek, and stuck it in his mouth, closed his eyes in
bliss. "Mmm, tastes like team spirit." he said.

Gordon had to laugh at that. "God, Bradley, I wish I'd figured out you were
a cocksucker long ago. I'm going to expect this after every game from now
on."

"You didn't know?" Bradley said. "My God! Which part of male cheerleader
did you not get?"

Bradley left, still sweeping Gordon's come off his face and licking it off
his fingers. Gordon for his own part stood up and began to get
undressed. Time for a shower and then to bed.

He got his shoes off and looked at them. One huge pearl of Bradley's come
was perched on the top of the tongue. He skimmed it off with his finger,
looked at it, shrugged, and stuck it in his mouth.

Smacked his lips. "Yep." he agreed. "Tastes like team spirit."

				  THE END
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