Date: Thu, 14 May 1998 19:02:22 -1000 From: John Clark Subject: Jocksucker chapter 5 Chapter 5 "Shit! Never fails." Widdie grabbed up the sweat pants he'd just shucked off and yanked them back on. He turned off the shower he'd been about to step into. The doorbell rang again, as he loped toward the front room. "Yeah?" he said as he jerked open the door. His eyes widened when he saw the young man who stood before him. The youth definitely had the body for the muscle-T he wore over levi shorts. Definitely. Widdie smiled. "Hi, can I help you?" "Mr. Widdoes, I'm sorry to bother you." "No bother at all. Come on in." Widdie motioned the youth ahead of him into the small living room. "Sit down, sit down." Widdie sat himself on the edge of his daybed, gesturing the other man into the room's only chair. "Mr. Widdoes, my name's Dennis Wu and I..." Widdie interrupted him to stretch his long arm toward the other, offering his hand. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Wu." Denny tried to keep his gaze directed into Widdie's soft brown eyes. He hadn't come here to gawk at the ballplayers long, smooth-muscled torso, or to spring a rod in front of a campus hero. Get to business, dammit. "Mr. Widdoes --" "Scuse me please for interrupting you, Mr. Wu. My daddy's still living, I'm happy to say, so I'd just as soon let him be Mr. Widdoes, if you'd call me Russ? Or Widdie - that's what most people call me." He smiled at Wu with the sweet openness of a child. "And now I will surely shut up and let you speak." Wu grinned back at the tall man. "Okay, uh, Widdie. If you'll call me Denny. I'm here to see if you can help me with a little problem." Wu paused, hesitant. Widdie nodded encouragement. "I have a friend. His name's Ion Tadescu. He's..." "About the finest gymnast in America. He's for sure putting this ol' school on the map in that department. Yeah, I've heard of Mr. Tadescu. Oops, sorry! I keep doin' that to you, don't I?" You can do anything you want to me, Wu thought. A flush crept across his face, at the wayward idea. "Well, yeah. That's the guy. He's my friend and also my teammate. And he sorta has a problem with a friend of yours. Dak Rollins." "Dak? Hey, old Dak wouldn't bother anybody, even if they was botherin' him. That ol' boy's a pacifist and a half. Can't believe your boy would have any trouble with my boy. What's the problem?" "Oh jeeze, this is where it gets tough. I gotta just jump into it, I guess. Mr. Widdoes..." Widdie made an exagerated frown. "Oh, sorry. Widdie. Uh, somehow it happened that these two guys ran into each other in, uh, a place where fellas can, oh, like help each other out, sort of. You know what I mean?" "No." A little smile began to break on Widdie's lips. "Unless you mean like the second floor men's room in the social science building?" "Jeeze, you know about that place?" "Heard tell. Go on with the story. Dak's gettin' it on with Ion Tadescu?!?" "Well, yes. Sort of. But only sort of. That's the problem." "Yeah? What?" "Well, I get the impression that it's pretty much one-way. Way I hear the story, Ion blows Dak. And that's it. The problem is that Ion's ass over apple-cart in love. And he thinks that Dak's straight, and just interested in getting his ashes hauled, or something like that." Widdie bent forward. "Stop. You're telling me a bad story. That isn't the way it is. I know that isn't the way it is." "What do you mean?" "Two things. Dak wouldn't use somebody that way. I grew up with the man. That isn't how he is. He's a kindly person. He thinks of others. We were raised that way, and it took with him. It took. I know it did. I've seen him give people things he wanted himself. Or not go for something he wanted, so somebody else could have it who he figured needed it more'n him. I'm tellin' you, my brother's a giver. Did you know we were raised together? From age five. I really do know this man. There isn't any way he'd be able to go in for just 'gettin' his ashes hauled' like you said." "I was hoping you'd say something like that. Because what I was thinking is maybe he's not sure what's going on. Inside himself, I mean. Do you think he could be gay? And not be all the way to realizing it? I have to admit, if he's getting it on every damn day for the last three weeks, it sure seems like more than casual sex." "Great sex!" Widdie jerked upright. "Huh?" "Just last week he told me something about how his life was pickin' up - money and great sex. But he wouldn't tell me any more about the sex part." Widdie whooped. "I congratulated him on getting a honey. I thought I meant a chick, but it coulda been a dick. Whoo, boy. That's a good one." He rocked with laughter. "Sorry, man. I get kinda carried away." Widdie laced his hands behind his head, stared off into the room for a moment as he pondered Wu's questions. Wu tried not to be caught staring at the Jordanesque torso on display a few feet away. I think I'm starting to get a little case of what's troubling Ion, he thought. This guy's a perfect male. "Yeah. Dak might be gay. Or have the potential to be gay. His encounters with women haven't been much good. Remember I said there were two reasons I couldn't buy your story?" "Yeah?" "Couldn't anybody blow Dak Rollins. See, he's got unusually big genitals. Cock and balls. I'm happy with what I've got, but I don't even take off my pants in the same room as him. His thing couldn't fit in somebody's mouth, period. And I'm guessin' the few pussies that took it were hurtin' afterwards. If they made room for it. Maybe that's what went wrong chick-wise. Maybe they just plain couldn't do the nasty." "No, Widdie. Ion's the most dumbly honest man I've ever met. He doesn't know how to lie. You know your boy, and I believe what you tell me about him. But I know mine. If Ion says he's blowing Dak, he is." Widdie shook his head. "You ain't seen what I've seen, man. I'm saying it's impossible. Only way that dick could go in your mouth would be if you on purpose dislocated your jaw. Which, in case you haven't ever experienced it, hurts like bloody hell and a half." "Jesus," Denny murmured. "Naw..." Widdie stared at Denny in disbelief. "You don't really think so, do you?" "Ion doesn't lie." "Jesus," Widdie echoed. "Well, I guess we got some idea, now, of how bad Ion's got it, huh? If he's doing that every day... Oh, shit, Widdie! He said sometimes they go twice. The kid's dying! No fucking wonder his concentration's off." "What do you mean?" "I caught him working out today. Good thing nobody else was around. He looked like a klutz. Have you ever seen him in performance, Widdie? It's so goddam beautiful it makes you cry. But not anymore. His whole head's in his heart. Or his dick, or whatever. I gotta do something." Wu grimaced in frustration and worry. Widdie leaned forward and laid his hands on Wu's knees. "We've gotta do something." Denny smiled, covered Widdie's hands with his own. "Thanks, man." Widdie pulled back, stood, stretched. "Dunno what, yet, but I'm meditating on it." "Widdie?" Denny looked up at the standing man, his face gone sober. "Wu?" "How do you feel about all this? I mean, if it turns out your brother's gay?" "I don't give a shit if he's gay or Methodist or a cream cheese bagel, long's he's happy. Anyway, I couldn't judge somebody's else's sex life. I go both ways myself." "You do?!" Wu gaped in wonder at the long-muscled athlete. "Been know to sample the dee-lights. How about you, young Wu? You ever cross the pond?" Widdie dropped, in one lithe motion, to sit cross-legged in front of Wu. There was no mistaking the interest on his face, or in the slant of his body, angled toward the boy like a spear. The tall man looked, but didn't touch. Respect for the other man kept his hands bunched around his own knees. But he remembered how the other man's body had felt earlier. His hands wanted to go back to those sinewy thighs, to travel up over the sculpted gymnast's belly, chest, and shoulders, to caress the knotted arms. "No. No, Widdie." Wu's voice was low, firm and controlled. "I've never mixed pleasure with pleasure. And I'm pretty surprised to find this out about a campus Romeo like you." His stern look bubbled away, replaced by his ebullient grin. "But I sure am glad to hear it. 'Cause I'm gay all the way. And you are turning me on real much." Wu slid off the chair to kneel before the other man. One hand reached up to trace the curve of the strong, brown chest. "I gotta tell you the truth, man," Widdie said softly. "I knew who you were soon's I opened the door." "Huh?" "I been coming to gymnastic events for almost a year. Even when you guys practice, whenever I can sneak in. That's why I know about your buddy, Ion." "Oh, you had the hots for Ion, too?" "No, man. I was hangin' around before he ever came to this school. I was lookin' you over." "Yeah, right." Wu laughed. "No, man. I'm not shittin' you. I saw you on TV last winter. Camera got a real nice close-up. First thing that stuck in my mind was your hair, the way you wear it short, and it sticks up in front." Widdie reached out a long, brown hand and slicked back the up-thrusting black brush over Denny's forehead. "Yeah, thick and wiry. An' next, I noticed you had just about the most beautiful skin I ever laid eyes on. And ever since you came in here and sat down, I've been fighting down the urge to yank off your shirt and lick your belly." Wu ripped off his shirt. He quickly bent forward at the waist, his face nearly in Widdie's crotch. Putting his hands lightly on Widdie's sides, the boy raised his head slowly, tantalizingly dragging his crew-cut forelock up Widdie's stomach. On up, between the firm pectoral muscles. Widdie lifted his head, stretched his neck, prolonging the contact. Wu's head crested up over Widdie's chin. He slowed and came to a stop, nose to nose with the handsome athlete. Widdie's arms reached out, went around the shorter man, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Their lips met, opened. Denny felt Widdie's tongue push demandingly through his parted lips. He sighed, accepted the penetration. Sucked, tasted, savored. With his own tongue, he stroked the underside of the sweet invader, then followed it out. Wu's tongue fluttered over Widdie's full, soft lips, then dipped into the hot mouth, and he in turn stabbed deeply into the other man. Through a long, breathless time the two men exchanged their spongy, pink gifts, working their jaws to generate saliva and drinking it greedily. Finally Wu broke free, gulped air. "God, Widdie! Oh, God!" "Shhh," the black man said. Now Widdie began moving his mouth over Denny's face. His nostrils flared, scenting the other man's skin, it's oils, the saliva smeared over his chin. Lightly he kissed first one eyelid, then the other. His hands roved freely, cupping the gymnast's heavy pecs, delving into his armpits, then racing down his back to pull hungrily in and up on the other man's butt. Then he pulled back, pulled away slightly. "Baby, we gonna get together," he murmured. "We can do it any way you want to, baby." He peered deep into Wu's eyes. "You call it." One hand, fingers spread to their full width, caressed both of Wu's nipples. His other hand cupped over the Chinese youth's throbbing groin. Wu pulled away, separating from the other man. His eyes raked the other from head to foot, not failing to notice the enormous mound that tented the basketball player's sweat pants. "Thanks, Widdie," he said, seriously. "I appreciate your flexibility. And I want to do everything there possibly is for us to do together. But right now I gotta ask you, most of the time, regularly, are you a top man or a bottom? I gotta know that." "Okay. Top. I fuck more'n I get fucked. But you can fuck me, baby, if you want to." A happy smile had spread over Wu's broad features. "No, Russell Widdoes. Thanks, but no thanks. There isn't anything else in the world that I want as much as you inside of me. Farther inside of me than anybody has ever been. Erase everybody that's ever been up there. Make it all yours. Except, dammit, I want to drink your cum, too." Wu's hands went to his fly, jerked loose the snap and abruptly pulled down his shorts, pushed and slid them to the floor, and kicked them away. He stood proudly before the black man, his eight hard inches of cock slanting defiantly up toward the ceiling. Hands on hips, he said "You call it. Fuck my ass or fuck my mouth, only for God's sake hurry!" "Oh, fuck, baby! You are so fucking beautiful!" Widdie lazily pulled the drawstring of his pants and shucked them down his legs, kicked them away as Wu had done. "This make any difference in your thinkin'? he asked, looking down at the slender, foot-long dick that was climbing up to jut straight out from his groin. Wu stared at the long rod, then wrenched his gaze away to look into Widdie's eyes. "Widdie, I never saw a dick that big. Sure as hell never swallowed anything like that. This'd be a good time to look all shy and say something like "please be gentle with me - you're so big, and I've never done anything like this before." "Yeah, it probably would," Widdie said. "Well, consider it said." With that Wu dropped to his knees. He took the long brown lance in his hands and drew the head to his lips. He savored the pungent aroma for a moment, then took the cockhead into his mouth, laved it with his his tongue, caressed and worked at it with his lips and cheek muscles. "Yeah, baby. That's so nice," Widdie drawled. Slowly Denny took the length of the shaft into his mouth, until he felt the spongy head strike the entrance to his throat. He paused to drag in a deep breath, then began the process of swallowing that would allow the hot pole to slide in and down. The head passed through, and then the whole length was flowing down, down, deep into his gullet. He released his hold on the prick as it disappeared inside of him, and reached instead to grab Widdie's hips, both to steady himself and to pull himself nearer to the hard-muscled body. At last his lips buried themselves in the black man's pubic hair, and Wu's nose and forehead pressed firmly against the hairy lower belly. His chin snuggled tightly against Widdie's brown, velvet egg sack. Wu felt triumphant excitement. He could feel the blood pulsing through Widdie's dick. It matched the insistent beat hammering in his own penis. Widdie began a slow retreat. He pulled his throbbing prick about half way out of Wu's throat, then pushed gently back in again. He repeated this in-and-out several times, then began to speed up as his need threatened to peak. More demanding, now, Russ's prong rammed down Denny's throat. In and out. In and out. He felt his climax building. His nuts churned with the boiling semen. ""I'm giving it to you, baby!" He gasped as his ass muscles clenched and the first wild spasm pushed his prick clear through Wu's esophagus, injecting the first gob of cum directly into the boy's stomach. Then, suddenly he was withdrawing, pulling all the way out, until only the erupting head was left in Wu's mouth. "Take it, honey," he gasped. He jerked his dick with his hand, milking out the sweet stream of semen into the boy's overflowing mouth. Wu tasted the acrid fluid, swallowing the load as quickly as he could down his aching throat. Sucking, swallowing, he eagerly devoured Widdie's cum. He reached down to give a couple of quick jerks on his sorely distended prong, immediately triggering his own orgasm. Widdie's cum coursed down his throat, overflowing, gushing out around the black dick. His own cum flew wildly out over the floor. Both men collapsed back to sit facing each other, leaning back on their arms and panting. Widdie repositioned himself, leaning back against the frame of the daybed. He looked down. "Good thing I ain't got a carpet in here," he said, pointing at a big blob of Wu's semen on the floor. As Denny watched, Russ scooped up the gelatinous gob. Gazing levelly into Denny's eyes, Russ smiled. He brought his hand to his face, smelled deeply of the pearly substance, then opened his mouth and sucked the love juice from his fingers, his eyes never leaving Denny's. He held the hand out to Denny. Denny, his gaze still trapped in Russ's enormous brown eyes, took the hand in his own, lifted it to his mouth and took the central finger in between his lips. Slowly, seductively, he went down on Widdie's finger. He pulled back, went down again, again, again, slowly, agonizingly slowly. "Aw, shit, Gingerman. Now look what you done." Wu's eyes followed Widdie's down to the black man's crotch. The amazing dick was slowly engorging again, crawling outward along the long-muscled thigh, and starting to lift off the leg in little jerking motions, then falling back only to jerk again, a little longer and fuller each time. Wu stretched forward until his mouth met Widdie's. They kissed long, deeply, leisurely. "Russ, thank you." Wu said. "I wanted to have you that way, real bad. Now, since your big, bad cock is up and waving his fist in the air, you're gonna get it the way you deserve to get it. Let me show you how gymnasts do it!" He laughed his infectious laugh, and straddled Widdie's lap. His thighs bulged with the weight of his body, as he reached under himself to grasp Russ's dick and hold it upright. It was still slick from his saliva and Widdie's cum. Carefully positioning the head, Wu settled his anus down over the shaft, wriggling until it entered him. "God!" Widdie gasped. "So fuckin' tight! An' you're burnin' up inside, man. Hotter'n hell on my cock. Oh, man. Good. Baby, that's so good." To Wu, it felt like the fire was coming from the lance slipping inexorably up his ass. He groaned as he sank further down onto the turgid shaft. "Baby, you okay?" Panting, Wu gasped and jerked his head in a quick nod. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and released the weight on one leg, stretching it out to the side. His hands supporting part of his weight on Widdie's shoulders, he carefully worked the other leg free, extending it far out to the other side. He was now doing a split on Widdie's cock, and his full weight was dragging him abruptly downward. Wu cried out as he felt something give in his guts, but then he continued to descend. There was no further obstruction. At last he came to rest, Widdie's whole, hard length crammed up his horribly distended colon. Wu sighed, shuddered. "Now you're fucking me, man." Because he'd begun his squat facing Widdie, they were now spiked together with Denny's face level with the taller man's torso. He turned his head, laid his cheek on Widdie's wide, brown chest. For a moment he was inert, utterly worn out from his exertion. "I'm sorry, Russ. I thought I could do this, but I guess you're a whole lot bigger than I realized. You think we could get us up on this sofa thing without coming unstuck?" Widdie snaked a long arm around Wu's back, firmly plastering their bodies together. "Pull your legs in close, baby," he murmured. He tucked his other arm down around Wu's butt and lifted, stood, carrying his impaled lover and laying him on his back on the daybed - all the while staying almost completely lodged within the warm chute. Widdie lifted Wu's ankles and laid them on his own shoulders. Then, looming over the supine gymnast, he began to fuck, gently, slowly. "Are you okay, Gingerman, honey?" The tall man asked. "Do it, stud! Just do it. Fuck me. Now. Please!" Widdie leaned far forward and kissed Wu, tenderly, gently. And continued the in and out thrusting of his pelvis, long-dicking the flushed, groaning youth. Both men knew this wasn't just a fuck.