Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2017 11:21:02 +0200
From: Ben Coolen <bencoolen1212@gmail.com>
Subject: Jake Call the Shots part 6

Jake Calls the Shots

Chapter 6 (Epilogue)

By Ben Coolen
bencoolen1212@gmail.com

This story contains sexual acts (domination, submission, oral sex,
masturbation)
between young males. If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country
or state, please stop reading it immediately.

This story is 100% fiction.

Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this great free
service running.

Thanks to Naughty Bard for proofreading the text.

------

Ricky put his phone away and opened his pants. Then, in the dark corner of
the park, young Ricky jerked his cock, taking in the odors of Matt's jock
body through his nose, until he shot a load of cum into his palm. Then he
let out a sigh.

Ricky wiped his hand on some moist grass and folded Matt's boxers
carefully. Then he placed them into a zipped pocket in his backpack. He got
up, took his backpack and smiled. He felt content. Everything was all right
again.

------

Ricky and Jake had agreed to meet at Jake's for some homework. Jake had a
soccer match after school, so they were supposed to meet after 5. Ricky
hoped secretly that Jake would let his friend watch him shower. Maybe he'll
even let me wash his back again, Ricky thought, and felt a familiar stir in
his pants when he remembered how he had been soaping Jake's muscled back.

Ricky rang the doorbell and Jake's mom let him in. Ricky didn't need to ask
for permission to go to Jake's room; he did it all the time, so after some
small talk he just climbed the stairs up and entered Jake's quarters.
Jake's room was a mess most of the time, and this time it was probably even
worse than usual. All kinds of trash and worn t-shirts, hoodies, underwear,
socks, shorts, sneakers and jeans were carelessly scattered on the floor,
on the chairs and shelves and on the bed.

Ricky shook his head and smiled to himself. What a sloppy friend he had! He
opened the window to let fresh air in and started to pick up the trash. The
waste basket was soon filled with candy wrappings, chip bags, empty soda
cans and other stuff that teenage boys try to fill the earth with.

When the room was cleared from trash, Ricky fetched a laundry basket and
started to pick up Jake's clothes. Every now and then he took the
opportunity to sniff around a bit; the sweat of Jake's t-shirt and socks
and the musky smell of his boxers made his cock stiffen. Was that gray
stain on those black boxers dried cum? Very likely, at least it smelled and
tasted like cum.

There was still no sign of Jake, so Ricky went downstairs and asked Jake's
mom for a vacuum cleaner and some cleaning equipment. Jake's mother smiled.

"Ricky, there's absolutely no reason for you to help Jake with his chores!
He should do them himself, that sloppy boy. Maybe one day I'll be able to
persuade him to actually do it," she laughed.

Ricky smiled back.

"I know, Susan. But Jake has helped me so much recently that I really want
to. Nothing special, just a little tidying up here and there."

Ricky returned to Jake's room with the vacuum cleaner, a couple of good
microfiber clothes and a bottle of cleaning spray. He sprayed the liquid on
the work desk, shelves and other surfaces and wiped them carefully. Then he
vacuumed the floor.

Ricky took the equipment back downstairs. When he came back, he stopped at
the door to take a look at the results of his work. The room smelled fresh
and looked clean and organized. Ricky smiled. Jake would be happily
surprised when he finally came back from the game.

Oh, one more thing. Jake's crumpled bed sheets looked like they needed to
be changed. He was pulling the sheets out when he heard familiar stomping
from the stairs. Jake was back, finally!

The door flew open. Jake stormed in and slammed the door shut behind him,
dropping his gear bag on the floor. He was still in his soccer gear; blue
jersey, matching blue shorts and white socks. Even his shin guards were
still in place under the knee-high socks. He had changed his cleats to a
pair of camo patterned Vans though. His soccer cleats were hanging around
his neck; Jake grabbed them and threw them into a corner where they landed
with a loud bang. The strong odor of his sweat overrode the fresh air of
the room.

Ricky saw immediately that his friend was furious. He knew Jake could be
really nasty when he was like that. Luckily it didn't happen often.

"What's up man? You don't look too happy," Ricky asked. The tone of his
question was soothing, but Jake's reply was not.

"What's up man?" he mimicked.

"The fuck's up! I got an E in the math test. We lost the game 4--0 and I
missed a penalty. That's the fuck that happened. And the coach made us stay
put after the match and listen to his marathon talk down. He mentioned me
especially. And my new cleats are killing my feet! That's what the fuck is
up, you fucking moron!" Jake snapped and sat down at his desk.

He pulled the blue jersey off and dropped it on the floor, revealing a
white sleeveless undershirt. He put his earphones on and turned the
computer on.

Jake was so furious that he hadn't even noticed that Ricky had given his
room a thorough clean-up. He started a game of Grand Theft Auto. Soon he
was absorbed in the fantasy world of fast cars, big-boobied girls and
violent car chases.

Ricky didn't know if he should stay or leave. He decided to try if he could
calm his friend down so they could do the history assignment that was due
the following day.

Ricky picked up Jake's jersey and took it to the laundry bin. Then he took
the cleats and placed them neatly next to his bed. After that he gathered
Jake's bed sheets and pillow cases into a bundle and carried them to the
laundry room in the basement. Then he came back with a fresh set of bed
sheets. When he was done changing them, he sat down on Jake's bed and
watched his friend play.

Jake's longish black hair was a mess, although a thin black bandanna
prevented the thick locks from falling down over his eyes. The tight, thin
shirt hugged his ripped body pleasantly; the tanned skin of his shoulders
looked so good against the bright white shirt.

Jake had stretched his legs, and Ricky admired once again the little
movements of his strong thighs that were thinly covered with downy black
hair. His calves were hidden by the soccer socks but Ricky knew that down
there the layer of hair became thicker. He loved the feel of the coarse
hairs against his fingers when he felt Jake's legs while sucking him off.

And that's what Ricky had been doing quite a lot lately. Jake had become
more and more successful in persuading girls to have sex with him, but when
he was horny between fucks -- mostly on weekdays -- he called for Ricky or
came to visit him. And Ricky would always break off whatever he was doing
to bring his friend the enjoyment and satisfaction he was seeking.
Afterwards Jake thanked Ricky, and sometimes stayed for a while to joke
with him, but just as often he just left after getting his rocks off.

Jake spent a lot of time with Matt now, and Ricky felt often lonely and a
bit jealous. Deep inside he was terrified that he could lose Jake for good,
and did his best to please his friend and keep him happy. Jake definitely
had nothing against that.

They had both silently accepted Ricky's role as Jake's servant. Ricky knew
what Jake liked, and every time he sucked him off he got more and more
skilled in pleasing him. Jake was proud of his ripped body and loved to
have it worshiped, and he was happy to take advantage of Ricky's devotion
to fulfill his every impulse.

Ricky decided to try if his skills had become good enough to bring his
friend back from his hostile fantasy world.

Jake's large desk was positioned in front of the window, but there was
enough space between the window and the desk for Ricky to squeeze through
so he could crawl under the desk. Jake didn't seem to be paying any
attention to him.

The hollow was cramped, and the air was overwhelmed by the smell of sweat.
The only part of Jake Ricky could see down there was his legs, so he would
have to concentrate his attention to them.

He crawled deeper to the little cave so that he was able to untie Jake's
shabby camo Vans and pull them carefully off his feet. He could immediately
smell the strong odor of the athletic feet that had suffered so much that
day inside the tight-fitting, synthetic cleats. Ricky would do his best to
ease the pain and tension in them. But first he would have to get rid of
the long soccer socks that were tightly taped up to keep the shin guards in
place.

Ricky scratched the surface of the tape above Jake's left ankle until he
found the end of the layer. Then he started to carefully peel the tape off.
Jake had so far paid no attention to his friend's activities at his feet.
Ricky could hear the tapping of the game console above his head as he
little by little released the tight wrappings around the white socks that
were stained all over with dirt and grass.

Piece by piece the tape came off, and the freshly vacuumed floor under the
desk was soon covered with pieces of white plastic tape. Finally Ricky was
able to peel the long socks down to Jake's ankles, so he could unstrap and
remove the white-and blue shin guards. The straps had left clearly visible
imprints on Jake's tanned calves.

Ricky pulled the long socks carefully off Jake's feet. Jake gave still no
sign of noticing what his friend was doing. Well, Ricky was going to make
his presence known soon enough.

Jake had been wearing thin white running socks under his soccer socks to
prevent blisters. Ricky pulled them off too and set them aside. Then he
took hold of Jake's right ankle, lifted it up a little and crouched down.

Jake flinched when he felt Ricky's soft lips touch the top of his hot and
sore foot, but he continued to play. Ricky kissed his right foot several
times on different spots before moving his attention to the left one. This
time he used his tongue to taste the salty dried sweat. That made Jake
cease playing. His right hand came into sight, holding the earphones.

"You can give me a foot rub if you want," he heard his voice from above.

Ricky smiled. His friend was with him again; still not too friendly but
speaking. Without replying Ricky started to massage Jake's right foot
gently with his fingers. He heard his friend let out a sigh.

"That feels so fucking good. Keep going," he said, and Ricky complied with
pleasure.

Jake started to watch some insolent hip hop videos while enjoying the foot
massage.

The skin of Jake's feet felt warm and moist in Ricky's hands, and he rubbed
every possible spot, massaging even the heels, and gave every toe an
individual treatment one by one.

After some fifteen minutes of loving foot massage, Jake put his earphones
aside. His smirking face appeared under the desk.

"Ain't it a bit uncomfortable down there?"

"It's not that bad. I'll manage," Ricky replied, although his legs were
numb and his back was hurting.

Jake rolled his chair backwards.

"You can do my legs now," he announced and stretched out his long legs.

"Okay", Ricky said and crawled strenuously out to the free world. He didn't
bother to stand up, and just crawled the few feet separating him from his
friend.

"Anything particular you want me to do?"

"Just give my legs a nice treatment. Start from my ankles. Make me feel
good," Jake said.

He leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
Ricky noticed that Jake hadn't shaved his armpits for a while; tufts of
black hair decorated the pale skin there.

Ricky started to rub the strings on Jake's ankles.

"If you ever played soccer, you'd know how fucking good that feels," Jake
commented.

After treating the ankles Ricky moved upwards, rubbing the hairy calf of
Jake's left leg.

"So, how was your day, man?" Jake asked.

Ricky smiled to himself. Things were getting back to normal again. Just
like two ordinary teenagers spending time together -- with the exception
that in this case the other teenager was down on his knees and giving the
other one a leg massage.

"It was okay. Mr. Tanner was even grumpier that usual though."

Jake chuckled.

"Tanner. I'm sure the old motherfucker is a closeted fag," he said.

Ricky laughed.

"He probably is. A real cocksucker," he said, massaging the muscles of
Jake's right calf.

"Fuck, even a fag like you wouldn't touch him, would you?"

Jake had started to call Ricky names sometimes when they were alone. It was
good-tempered and playful, and Ricky didn't bother to become angry when
Jake teased him by suddenly dropping a word like fag, faggot, homo or gay
boy in the middle of a conversation.

Ricky laughed.

"Absolutely not. Not even a faggot like me," he replied, causing Jake to
let out a delighted laugh.

"You're alright, man. I was just in a fucking bad mood. But you made me
feel better, man."

Ricky felt relieved. That was as close to an apology that Jake would get.
Jake was not an apologetic person.

"You're alright too, man. Want me to do your thighs next?"

"No." Jake replied curtly, surprising Ricky.

Jake got up and locked the door of his room. Then he came back, took hold
of Ricky's head and pulled it in until it was firmly pressed against his
crotch. Ricky took a deep breath in and enjoyed the smell of the
sweat-soaked silky shorts.

"I want you to give me head now. Suck me off real good. Do you hear me, gay
boy?"

"Yes Sir," Ricky replied, his voice muffled by the pressure of Jake's
crotch on his face.

Jake laughed.

"Sir? I like that. You can get up now."

Ricky got up clumsily, and faced his friend. Jake looked amused.

"Now, help me get out of my gear."

Ricky didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the hem of Jake's undershirt
between his fingers and pulled the tight shirt up, revealing Jake's hard
abs.

Jake lifted his arms to let Ricky pull the shirt completely off. Ricky
couldn't resist the armpits that were on offer right in front of him. He
leaned closer and kissed Jake's right pit and licked the silky hair,
enjoying the strong, manly taste and salty odor.

Jake laughed.

"You're such a fag for my body, dude."

"Yeah," Ricky groaned and moved to lick licked Jake's left pit. Then he
pulled the shirt off and threw it on the floor.

Ricky untied the string of Jake's shorts. He pulled them down and let them
drop down to the youngster's ankles. Jake wrestled them off with his toes.
The only piece of clothing left now was Jake's white American Eagle boxer
briefs. Jake's cock was already stretching out the front impatiently,
waiting to be attended to.

Ricky leaned closer to kiss Jake's left shoulder. The area below Jake's
shoulders was pretty much free for him to worship, but Jake did not want
him to touch his neck with his lips. That was girls-only territory. Kissing
his face or lips was absolutely out of the question.

Ricky moved downwards, kissing and licking the little canyon between Jake's
nicely developed pecs.

Then it was time to change position. Ricky dropped to his knees and
continued to lick downwards, worshiping the sweaty mounds and valleys of
Jake's hard abs until he reached his navel. He knew Jake liked to be teased
and worshiped there, so he licked and kissed his belly-button lovingly for
quite a while.

He moved a bit lower and met the familiar black love trail that nowadays
seemed to grow a bit thicker and wider every month. Ricky licked the hair
and the flat abdomen below it, getting some loose hairs in his mouth.

Jake's lower abdomen was very sensitive, and Ricky felt the teen's hardened
cock press against his chest. He rubbed it gently through the thin boxers
while he licked Jake's underbelly.

Then it was time for the real thing; to grant Jake the satisfaction he was
entitled to. Ricky took the wide black waistband of Jake's boxers between
his fingers and started to pull them down. As usual, Jake had trimmed his
pubes into black stubble, and the hairs tickled Ricky's lips pleasantly
when he kissed and licked Jake's skin as it gradually became visible. When
the root of Jake's cock became exposed, he greeted it with wet kisses.

The raw smell of Jake's sweaty, unwashed crotch filled Ricky's senses and
he felt his own cock ooze precum inside his pants. He wrapped his left hand
around Jake's butt and continued to peel the boxers down slowly. Soon
Jake's cock bounced out, free to be offered to his cocksucker. But Ricky
wasn't ready to take it in his mouth just yet. He wrapped his left hand
around the shaft and crawled behind the other teen, all the time jerking
his cock gently. The love muscle was already fully hard, leaking slime on
Ricky' s fingers.

Jake's buttocks were small and tight, but Ricky knew they were strong from
all the running and soccer practice. Recently some black hair had started
to grow between the two mounds of muscle, but otherwise Jake's butt was
smooth and hairless. Ricky kissed his left buttock over and over again, but
he knew he had to steer clear from the area near the crack. Then he
replaced his left hand on Jake's rod with his right and moved to worship
Jake's right buttock, leaving traces of spit all over the smooth skin.

Ricky crawled back to Jake's front and started to lick his rod. After
licking every spot he took care of the plump ball sack gently, dissolving
layers of dried sweat off it with his tongue.

Suddenly Ricky felt Jake's hand grab his hair.

"Enough," he grunted.

"I'm gonna feed you my load now, cocksucker."

Cocksucker? Jake hadn't called him that after that one night in Ricky's
bedroom. But if he wanted to use that word -- well he was Jake's cocksucker,
no sense denying that.

Ricky looked up and met Jake's eyes.

"Yes Sir."

His reply made Jake smirk. He released his grip on Ricky's hair.

"Good boy. Now get these fucking boxers off my legs."

Ricky pulled the AEs quickly down to Jakes ankles, and Jake lifted his feet
a little to let him pull them off completely.

Jake placed his hand behind Ricky's head and guided his hard, slime-leaking
young rod into Ricky's waiting mouth. The feel of the soft, loving lips
wrapping around the shaft of his young sex organ drove him wild.

Jake, too, had felt the distance growing between him and his long-time best
friend. He enjoyed hanging out with Matt; Matt was a guy like him, and they
could talk about guy-things like football and soccer and girls and straight
sex.
Ricky was different; he was so fucking emotional sometimes. Fuck, at times
he acted like a girl. Jake hated that, but he was more than happy to use
Ricky's services whenever he was horny and unable to find pussy.

But rumors about Ricky's sexual orientation were circling in their school,
and Jake had noticed some kids snicker when he walked with Ricky in the
hallway. No way would he let himself be labeled as a fag!

Jake wanted so bad to unload all the events of that shitty day off his mind
and body. He wasn't sulking to Ricky anymore, and he didn't blame his
friend in any way for his own misfortune. But he was there, a cocksucker at
Jake's disposal, and Ricky would swallow all the bitterness of his mind and
body.

Jake took Ricky's head between his hands. He started to fuck his friend's
face forcefully, holding his head in place with an iron-hard grip.

"Take it all, cocksucker," he grunted, and Ricky did his best to fit the
mercilessly pounding cock in his mouth.

"That's the way, this is what faggots are for."

Ricky had enjoyed enormously when Matt had called him names while he sucked
him off. But coming from Jake, those words shocked him at first -- Jake was
his best friend after all. But if Jake likes to call me names, so be it, he
decided. Ricky squeezed Jake's buttocks to show that he was not resisting
the rough treatment, feeling the muscles tense and ease in pace with his
face-fucking.

Jake pushed Ricky back with the weight on his body, until the back of the
kneeling boy's head pressed against the armrest of the recliner chair. Now
he was able to use all the force he wanted to really hammer the
cocksucker's face until he got his relief.

"Wrap... your... lips... tighter! Use... your... tongue... you... fucking... homo..." Jake
panted.

Ricky was starting to panic. Jake had never treated him like this before.
His head was trapped between the armrest and Jake's hard abdomen, and a
coarse seam in the leather upholstery scratched his neck painfully. But he
was going to endure it; he would not let his friend down in a moment like
that. Jake needed him and that was all that mattered!

And then Jake came. He shot a missile of warm slime into Ricky's mouth,
looking down to his face; the fucker looked so miserable with tears of
suffering in his eyes and streams of cum and spit running down his chin.
Jake enjoyed the pleading in his cocksucker's eyes. But he was not done
with him yet.

Jake pulled out of Ricky's mouth and aimed his pulsing cock right into his
face. The last three shots of cum landed all over Ricky's face and hair,
completing the perfect image of a low-life faggot who would let himself be
humiliated like that. Ricky had shown that he would let Jake use him any
fucking way he wanted. That elated Jake's state of mind, but it also made
him despise the kneeling young man in front of him.

Jake stepped back and looked at Ricky.

"Fuck dude, you look like a true faggot now," he snickered.

"Go clean yourself up."

Ricky got up and staggered to the bathroom. Jake slumped down in his
armchair, still panting. He reached for his boxers and wiped his cock with
them. He heard water running in the bathroom while he recovered from his
orgasm.

Jake felt a bit guilty now, having treated his friend like that. Ricky
didn't really deserve to be used like that. Jake would have to control
himself better in the future. But he was done with all the frustration of
that day. Eat that, Coach Parker, he thought to himself and smiled.

The bathroom door opened and Ricky came out. He had rinsed his face and
hair, and wet spots on the chest of his shirt showed that he had tried to
get rid of some cum stains there.

"Hey, how're you doing man," Jake asked in a friendly tone.

Ricky tried to smile.

"I'll live. I guess."

They both laughed.

"Maybe I was a bit too rough with you. I'll try to go easier next time,"
Jake promised generously.

"I would appreciate that," Ricky said, relieved to hear Jake speaking to
him like a friend again. Maybe...

"Jake, would you like me to help you take a shower?"

Jake's reply was blunt. He wanted to be alone. And besides, he was not
Ricky's boyfriend.

"No."

Jake saw the disappointment in Ricky's face. Oh god, he thought,
frustrated. Here we go again.

"Look, would you like to have my boxers?" Jake asked, picking up his white
AEs off the floor.

"I've used them all day and I wore them in the game. And I wiped my cock
with them," he charmed Ricky.

"Yeah, thanks man," Ricky tried to smile. He felt a bit better already.

Jake got up and handed the boxers to Ricky. Then he turned around towards
the bathroom.

"See you next time," he said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, next time," Ricky said and reached for his backpack. He folded
Jake's underwear carefully and tried to unzip a pocket where he would hide
it. The zipper got stuck and he had to struggle to pull it open.

Jake switched on the bathroom light. The sight was miserable. Used towels
and discarded clothing were scattered on the floor. The sink, the tub and
the toilet screamed for a thorough scrub. How could anyone expect to get
clean in a dump like that?

Jake frowned. Such strenuous and degrading tasks were not suitable for a
popular and successful young man like him. He heard Ricky unlock the door
of his bedroom.

"Hey, wait a second dude! Would you like to wash my back?"

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