Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2005 00:00:19 +0800
From: makatiboy (at) mac (dot) com
Subject: Crede and A.J. In the Middle

DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This fictional story depicts homosexual acts between
two men in explicit detail with numerous curse words. If reading this is
illegal in your country, state, or community, stop. This is completely
fictional and fantastical and does not mean to imply anything about the
actual thoughts and habits of the persons depicted herein.


CREDE AND A.J. IN THE MIDDLE
(c) 2005 "makatiboy". All rights not licensed to Nifty Archive reserved.


Joe Crede staggered into his hotel room and fell over the bed.

"... unngh," he said. His hand flexed around the champagne bottle he had
brought all the way back from the ballpark. He looked up, saw the lights of
Anaheim gleaming through the curtains of the window, and said, "I'm going
ta Disneyland!"

A chuckle from the doorway. "Not so fast, sport." AJ Pierzynski stood
there. "Party's still going on in Duque's room."

"Fuck it," said Crede into the coverlet. He took a swig of stale champagne.

Pierzynski laughed. "Sounds like you need a girl, kiddo," he said. "They
got those in Duque's room too."

Crede raised his head at that, considered, and then said, "I'm too
lazy. Can't I just get blown right here?"

Another chuckle. Then he heard the door close and lock. "That can be
arranged," Pierzynski said.

Joe turned over onto his back. "AJ?" he said confusedly, but all he saw in
the dim light from the city was his teammate's body as Pierzynki began to
strip. Off came the shirt. Down came the shorts. Then followed the jock,
and Crede was staring at a hard and naked Pierzynski with a cruel smirk on
his face.

Crede blinked. "Uh, dude..." he said, as Pierzynski grabbed him by the
knees and pulled him to the edge of the bed. "Dude, what're you ..." With a
sharp jerk, Pierzynski broke the zipper of Crede's fly. "Hey..." Without
warning, Pierzynski stood, put his leg up on the edge of the bed, grabbed
the back of Crede's head, and before he knew it, Joe had a mouthful of
cock.

"Nnnggrrh!" But Pierzynski was too strong. He had Crede by the back of the
head and his knee was right up against Joe's crotch, and goddamn but his
other hand was in Crede's pants and was touching him, touching him. And
Crede was too drunk to fight.

But not too drunk not to know what was happening. Fuck, AJ was raping
him. Why wasn't he fighting him off? He had a fucking COCK in his mouth,
and AJ was going back and forth, fucking his lips, and he was just TAKING
it. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was married, for crying out loud!
And a father!

And why was he getting hard? He was, he was throwing a huge bone in AJ's
hand. And he heard himself moan and actually start sucking on AJ's fucking
shaft, and the fucker was huge, man, bigger than him.

"Atta boy," he heard Pierzynski sneer softly. "I knew you'd suck it once
you got a taste of it. I've wanted to do this to you all season, just
waited for the right time. Now I want you and me to go into the World
Series and hear the whole fucking city of Chicago cheering for their star
third baseman and know their golden boy sucked my prick and took my sperm
up his ass."

Crede's eyes widened and he managed to pull away for just a second and
stare at Pierzynski. "AJ ... aw, fuck, man ... don't fuck me, please!"

But the catcher only sniggered and smirked. He grabbed a fistful of Crede's
curly hair and used it to yank Joe's head back hard. Then he placed his
face on Crede's and shoved his tongue deep in the younger man's mouth, and
all Joe could do was swallow his protest.

Then Pierzynski pulled away. Crede blinked. He was still in his street
clothes, his zipper torn and his cock jerking at its full seven inches and
leaking onto his clothes. Pierzynski was naked, still smiling, his eyes
narrow, slowly jerking his ten-inch man-raper that Joe realized was wet
with his spit.

"Maybe I should go," said AJ, yanking at his prick in front of
Crede. "You're probably pooped." He bent down to pick up his clothes, but
didn't put them on, and went to open the door.

"Wait!"

The smirk sneaked its way up the catcher's cruel face. He paused, the door
slightly ajar, voices coming down the hall.

"'sup, kiddo?" he said, turning and glancing at Crede.

Poor Joe swallowed. He closed his eyes and knew he was crossing a major
threshold. But the pounding of his heart told him he had to do this. He
couldn't say no.

He pulled off his shirt and shoved off his pants faster than he'd ever done
before, so he was naked on the bed. Then he got off the bed and onto his
knees. His hand jerked his cock automatically. He mumbled his reply.

Pierzynski watched him. "Say it louder, Joe."

Crede shut his eyes tight and said it again through gritted teeth.

"C'mon, bro, you're a man, say it like a man!"

"FUCK ME AJ!" Crede bellowed, and man it was almost like he was gonna cry,
or cum, or both. "Please," he added.

The door closed. The light and the voices faded. In the darkness lit by the
amusement park lights far outside, Pierzynski returned to the kneeling
young man before him and placed his cockhead against the kid's bewhiskered
chin.

"Get it nice and wet," he whispered. "It's going in your ass next," and a
single tear leaked out of Joe Crede's eye as he took the raging cock back
into his mouth.

***

Slap, slap, slap. AJ's balls were slapping against Joe's ass. How long had
they been at this? To Crede it felt like forever: AJ Pierzynski, ramming
his asshole full of cock, fucking the shit out of him. He was a bitch. Joe
had already cum; his jizz was all over the floor, and AJ had made him scoop
it up and eat it and smear it on his own face, and he had. And still
Pierzynski was raping him.

" ... why ...?"

"Say what, kiddo?"

Crede swallowed. He tasted his own cum. It coated his throat, made it
scratchy. "Why ..." he tried again, "me, dude? Why did you do this to me?"

"Why? Cuz you're cute, that's why!" said Pierzynski with a laugh. He bent
low over Joe's back and tenderly tucked a lock of Crede's lank, sweaty hair
behind the younger man's ear and whispered, "Because you came in a chubby,
pasty dork and turned into a pinup pretty boy in front of our eyes. Because
you're a fucking stud, a college star, an All-Star. Because you've got
teenage girls screaming your fucking name and little boys wanting to grow
up to be just like you. Because you're a damn good ballplayer. And because
I knew you'd let me."

Well, Joe couldn't argue with that. He'd had plenty of chances to stop this
rape, or seduction, or whatever it was; but he hadn't. He'd let it
happen. Fuck, he had cum harder than he could ever recall. And fuck but he
actually loved this feeling, Pierzynski's monster Polish sausage, his
ten-inch raping tool, doing its job on Joe's so-recently-virgin guts. It
had hurt like hell going in, and he had screamed into AJ's hard, callused
hand; tears had come out, he'd actually started bawling like a kid or a
little girl, as the powerfuck started. And now he was still acting like a
girl, but not an innocent; a whore, a skank, a well-fucked cockslut. He
whimpered as AJ changed positions and angles and locations, treating poor
Joe's innocent asshole like a strike zone he wanted to widen, and using
every slider, sinker, forker, curve and change he could, up and in, low and
out, and the hard straight heater, bam, bam, bam, strike three and
yerrrOUT! Out? No kidding! Joe doubted he'd ever really be straight again
after this. His "strike zone" was by now so generous Greg Maddux could
pitch a no-hitter in it.

"I did this in Minnesota, you know?" Pierzynski was saying. "Guess who I
fucked. Guess."

"... I dunno, man, I dunno... aah ... oh, fuck, yes, oh God what the fuck
you done to me, you've fucking turned me out ..."

"Man that gets me off," said Pierzynski ruthlessly grinning. "Take a hot
stud and make him into my bitch. Even only once, it's enough. Mientkiewicz
will still get on his knees and blow me if I ask him."

Crede's eyes widened. Doug Mientkiewicz?

"And on the Giants," Pierzynski boasted, "you know who I made my bitch
there?"

"... Barry Bonds?"

Pierzynski snorted and roared. "Fuck no! I'm not getting any of that prima
donna juice on my piece! Give you a hint. He's worth a hundred dollars."

Joe's eyes widened again. "Tomko? You fucked Tomko?"

"I fucked him UP, totally!" Pierzynski said with relish. "He's so
sensitive, so artistic, wants to be so good at everything. Fuck, he pulls
that shit on me, calls me a cancer? I fucked him. I fucked him good, and
literally. And you know what? Once I did it, he couldn't get enough. He
begged for my dick, I played him like a fiddle. I even fucked him in front
of his wife." AJ's eyes went glassy as he continued pistoning in and out of
poor Crede's now-sloppy hole. "Turned her on so much I fucked her, too. And
there he was, watching me have his woman, his dick so hard and wishing it
wasn't her pussy I was fucking, but his." His voice grew distant, even as
he grabbed Joe's hips and pulled the kid up tighter against his and began
slamfucking Crede like a cheap gutter whore. "They licked my dick
together. Brett and his wife. I made him fuck her cunt while I fucked his
ass. Fuck ..." AJ whispered. "What about you, kid? You and yours?"

Crede shut his eyes. He turned his face to see the window. The light
outside gleamed on his wedding band as he got fucked. "You're evil, AJ," he
said.

"Me? Nah... come on, I was ... an altar boy ..." And Pierzynski blew his
load, tons of sperm soaking poor young Joe's insides.

Joe sighed. "Me too," he said, and he blew his load too, his second that
night.

***

Past midnight, Crede woke. Pierzynski was coming from the bathroom.

"Hey," said the catcher in a friendly fashion. "Sorry I woke ya."

Joe rubbed his eyes. "No prob." He yawned. "I thought you left."

"Me?" AJ shook his head. He crawled back into bed and spooned up behind
Crede. His dick was semi-hard and he tucked it in Crede's crack. "Why would
I ever want to leave?"

Joe smiled. "Asshole."

Pierzynski grinned. "I know." He kissed Joe on the cheek. "By the way, I
texted Rowand, and he's coming over to have a piece of your ass too."

Oh man! thought Crede, as somebody knocked.

***

THE END. maybe.

For inspiration:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v435/chipofdale/crede_rowand_pierzynski.jpg