Date: Sun, 9 Jan 2022 00:52:52 -0500
From: Ulf Raynor <ulfr57@gmail.com>
Subject: When Opportunity Knocks: Chapter four

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people
or actual events is purely coincidental.

You may contact the author at Ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions
and/or obsevations are welcome if presented respectfully.

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When Opportunity Knocks

Chapter Four:

 Well, that couldn't have worked out better if I planned it!" Matt
McCormick sighed in relief as he pulled out of the ReGen Pharmaceutical Lab
research facilities parking lot, reaching over to the passenger side seat
and patting the front pocket of his canvas bag travel case for his laptop,
making sure its contents were still safely tucked away, feeling another
wave of relief wash over him as he felt the faint outline of the two-pill
pack cards contained within.

Of course, Matt wasn't discounting the luck or fate, as it were, that had
presented this fortuitous opportunity. What were the odds that Dr. Ventrov
would entrust him with the transfer of the very thing he was sure could
alleviate a potential problem that had been troubling him since yesterday?

So far, his entire day had played out this way for him. First, was when he
woke up, or should he say dragged his tired, sore ass out of bed.

He had spent a good portion of the previous night being relentlessly plowed
by his brother Brian's tireless cock, even remembering how he had hoped at
the time, that it wouldn't be the last.

What a difference a few hours made.

He had awakened, not only with a puffy, swollen asshole that was still
gooey with the plethora of cum his brother had dumped up his hole, but he
had a sore throat to match. Also, there was no small degree of incestual
guilt knocking insidiously around inside his head.

Fortunately, and completely in keeping with his current train of luck,
Brian had already headed out before Matt got up and while Matt still had to
scramble to get ready for work, with no time for even a quick breakfast, at
least he didn't have to face his brother in an awkward morning after
situation. Though he knew, there was still going to be plenty of time for
that later, knowing full well, that at some time, he and Brian were going
to have to have some sort of discussion about it, but his current state of
mind on the matter was to chalk it up to a one-time thing, one that he
could never let happen again.

Matt had been careless, he knew that. As it were, Brian would have never
done anything remotely like what they did the night before and that all of
this was down to the changes Matt was currently undergoing and that his
brother was just an innocent victim of circumstance; collateral damage as
it were, at least until Matt could get his new abilities under more
control.

All Matt could figure was that his older sibling had succumbed to him
broadcasting strong sexual hormones while he dreamed of James Hatcher. And
even though he had left his window open and his ceiling fan on to defuse
the ones he had consciously used on Hunter Milsbane early that evening, he
had forgotten to close his bathroom door, and since Brian never closed his
own adjoining door, he had succumbed to his wafting pheromone discharges
during his erotic dream. At least as far as Matt could figure.

Actually, what Matt was hoping for, was that Brian would feel as guilty as
he now did and that he would be to embarrassed to bring it up and they
could just both pretend it never happened. The little voice in his head
told him that was highly unlikely and that he should be prepared for the
eventuality that Brian approached him about it.

Either way, he'd definitely be more careful in the future, making sure he
took whatever precautions necessary to prevent it from ever happening
again.

Matt's second bit of luck that morning had been his mother letting him use
her car instead of driving him to work. Though not unheard of, it was rarer
than Matt liked, hoping someday, that he would be able to afford to buy his
own vehicle once he had saved enough money. A little-used Subaru would suit
him nicely.

That left his third piece of luck and probably the most fortuitous of all.

It had begun with the completion of his usual mindless data transfers on
each of the four subjects (not including himself) he was responsible for
and correlating that data for Dr. Ventrov, who was where he usually was,
right across the lab at his workstation pouring over complicated-looking
chemical analysis and breakdowns from the various other lab technicians.

Today, it seemed, was a little different in the fact his normally cluttered
desk was now doubly so as it now also served as a temporary repository for
the various bottles and pill cards that contained the experimental
supplements the lab had developed.

As Matt would later learn, as he sat down next to the doctor, while he
reviewed his weekly compilations and caught Matt eyeing the various
supplements, that in fact, the various chemical analysis he was reviewing
on his computer screen, were the compounds he had on his desk that was
either to be discontinued or remitted for further study.

One, in particular, had caught Matt's interest. handwritten on the blank
space provided on the pill card were the words "male enhancement."

At first, Matt took that to mean it was something like Viagra or any of the
host of other male supplements meant to increase male sexual
performance. But the sudden arrival of Coach Chuck Myers, who had overheard
their discussion as he approached them, had made the jest that most men in
the world would probably give their right arm for that one, pointing to the
card Matt had been focused on.

His sudden appearance behind them had startled Matt at first, but his words
stuck in his head as Matt regarded the clustered pack of cards contained
within the rubberbanded bundle.

Each card had to contain at least twelve of what looked liked time-released
capsules.

Matt initially laughed, thinking the coach was merely making a joke about
it, but when Doctor Ventrov was suddenly pulled away by one of his
assistants, Matt had all but decided to see if he could subtly push the
coach for more information. But when the doctor suddenly got up and left
with the assistant, Coach Myers had leaned in and half-whispered: "Just one
of those bad boys doubles a guy's size, endurance, and output
permanently. Can you imagine what would happen if that formula got out to
the general public?"

The shocked look on Matt's face must have amused the coach causing him to
chuckle as he patted Matt on the back playfully.

Matt chaffed at what he thought was merely a taunt from the hirsute,
muscular giant causing him to retort tersely: "Oh, so this is what you took
to make you the man you are today."

The smile faded from the coach's face, his gaze hardened and his brow
furrowed: "This..."He stated flatly, no hint of humor in his voice: "...Is
what they distilled from what they gave me. What I took was
first-generation and far broader in scope...." his voice trailed off
thoughtfully as if remembering something unpleasant, before concluding:
".... and severity."

As if someone had flipped a switch, the coach laughed again, a beaming
smile that subsumed his handsome face as he reached across Matt and lifted
another pack of bundled pill cards with the label MetaGen XI stamped at the
top and tossed it in Matt's lap.

"That right there is probably more your speed kid, that's closer to what
your buds are taken..." He ruffled Matt's hair jovially, adding: "though I
think that versions permanent compared to what the doc's givin' the boys."

That revelation was news to Matt. All this time he had thought that the
changes they were undergoing were meant to be perpetual, but if what the
coach was implying were true, then all any of them needed to do, was to
stop taking their supplement to return to normal.

Matt glowered at the bundle of pill cards in his hands, regarding them
almost absentmindedly, noting not only the similarities to the ones he knew
the guys took each week but the difference between the ones he took.

The coach seemed to pick up on his train of thought: "You do know, you're
not taking the same thing they are dontchya?"

Matt just nodded his head without remarking. Dr. Ventrov had made it clear,
that what they were trying to achieve with Matt was different from what
they expected to happen with the guys on the football team.

But still, Matt couldn't help but wonder if taking this might help him
achieve the coach's and the doctor's goals if he could approach them on a
physically more comparable basis.

He had noticed that there were improvements in his own physiognomy, but
nothing like what the other guys were achieving, and he couldn't help but
think, that if he was just a little more physically intimidating like
them...

It was at that moment the doctor returned and ended his and the coach's
conversation.

Matt couldn't help but note a sense of agitation in Doctor Ventrov's
mannerisms, something had obviously disturbed him as he seemed to fidget
with the various prepackaged supplements on his desk, while simultaneously
flitting his gaze between him and Coach Myers, who himself was regarding
the doctor quizzically.

Abruptly, the doctor grabbed a small stainless steel cart next to his desk
and began quickly loading all the bottles and packet bundles onto it before
turning to Matt and nervously instructing him to take the cart down the
hall to the storage room before hastily handwriting a note he thrust in
Matt's hand that he was to present to the technician there.

Finding the doctors sudden change in mood somewhat perplexing, having never
seen him act any other way than his usual stoic, clinical detachment, Matt
swiftly shuffled the wobbly wheeled cart out into the main hall and veered
off in the direction of the intersection that lead down to the indicated
storage center.

As he approached his turnoff, Matt hazarded a glance at the content of the
handwritten note that simply stated: "All contents to be incinerated
immediately."

Almost instantly, upon reading the doctor's handwritten instruction, a plan
was formulated in Matt's head, while simultaneously marveling at the
fortuitousness of the moment.

Matt knew, that all the hallways in the facility had cameras that offered
continuous surveillance, noting that there were few exceptions or blind
spots, one of which, was a four-foot section, right after the turn-off in
his current destination.

Timing would be everything Matt conjectured as he studied the contents of
the cart, formulating a plan that could be rapidly enacted allowing for
only the briefest halt in forwarding momentum.

Nervously, the palms of his hands sweating and his fingers shaking, just as
he made the turn, Matt quickly plucked two blister-packed cards from two
separate bundles and swiftly stuffed them down the front of his pants, nary
missing a beat in his sojourn.

Matt did his best to be as nonchalant as possible as he finished his trek,
handing off the cart and the doctor's instructions, before hastily
retreating back down the way he came.

He could feel the cards shifting against his groin and feared they might
make some noise that could alert someone to his first-time theft, all the
while imagining just such a scenario and the immense amount of trouble he
could potentially be in if caught.

He paused at the entrance to the lab and tried as inconspicuously as
possible to adjust the blister packs more securely in his underwear without
actually reaching down the front of his trousers.

It was as he paused there, that he could overhear the voices of Doctor
Ventrov and Coach Myers heatedly discussing something that seemed to
trouble both of them.

Matt wasn't prone to eavesdropping, but it was the nature of their
conversation that piqued Matt's interest.

"Quit frettin' over it doc..."He heard the coach say: "That's why I left
the Corps when I did, to limit the possibility of running into anyone I use
to know prior to my liaison between the Pentagon and the work you're doing
here. I assure you, no one I knew before that, could make the connection
between the two."

Matt could hear the bluntness in the coach's voice, sensing he truly
believed what he was telling Dr. Ventrov was the truth.

"I wish I shared your optimism, but you know as well as I do, that those in
your past could and would wreak havoc on what we're attempting to do here,
let alone expose the tenuous connections we have at the Pentagon. It has
taken considerable effort and money to keep what we're doing under wraps
and with this general poking around and asking questions, I'm not as sure
as you are that our safety and the nature of what we're doing isn't already
compromised. "

The doctor added sardonically: "Some of your people aren't as
self-centered, naive, and stupid as I was led to initially believe."

Coach Myers chuckled, more out of disdain rather than finding what the doc
said as amusing.

"Whoever this so-called brilliant scientist you were in contact with back
in Ukraine was, while they may know their shit in regards to your little
marginally sanctioned experiment, they certainly sold you a bill of goods
where we're concerned."

"I have based most of my work on the intel my people garnered from that
source and it has proven invaluable to our work here. We are so close to
making the breakthrough we've hoped for, I'm certain of it!"

The doctor's voice had grown more animated, more emotional than anything
Matt had ever heard from him before, and judging by the intonation of their
conversation, Matt was beginning to realize, there was far more going on
here than some pharmaceutical company making supplements to increase
stamina and strength. But as disturbing as he found what the doctor was
saying, it was Coach Myers's observations that truly gave him the shivers.

"So, you still think the boy is still the key don'tchya?" he stated, his
voice sounding coldly analytical and matter of fact.

"You tell me, Mr. Myers?" Doctor Ventrov countered.

Matt waited with bated breath for the coach to respond and a cold shiver
ran down his spine when he finally did.

"I can feel the pull, though it's not quite the same yet, it's growing." He
paused for a second, but his next words nearly floored Matt: "I'm fairly
certain he already has Hunter Milsbane wrapped around his little finger and
I'm also sure, with a little effort, Lance Coleman will be next. Hatcher
seems to be more resistant, but I can already see the cracks forming and I
think if things keep progressing as they are, it won't be long before he's
as compliant as the rest of them."

"Good!" Doctor Ventrov concluded, adding: "Then I see no reason why we
shouldn't expedite the plan, I no longer feel that we have the luxury of
time we once had and I would like to see this experiment to its conclusion
before I am forced to return my findings back to my benefactor in Ukraine,
I think he'll be most pleased with our results."

"I'm looking forward to meeting him" Coach Myers responded, though there
was an almost imperceptible tint of hesitancy in his voice, a slight
trepidation that Matt barely picked up on.

For the first time since Matt had met him, he heard Dr. Ventrov chuckle.

It was a chilling kind of laugh, something that obviously didn't come
naturally to him: "Be careful what you wish for Mr. Myers, that day will
come soon enough. Besides, not everyone in the world will be happy to know
of his continued existence!"

It was at that time and almost on cue, one of the doctor's other assistance
appeared around the corner from the opposite direction Matt had come from.

Thinking quickly Matt made it appear as if he himself had just returned,
thrusting the door to the lab inward and stood there holding it open as he
waited for the other assistant to enter before him.

Doing his best to pretend that what he had overheard hadn't shaken him,
Matt did his best to behave as normally as possible, returning to his
workstation, scooping up his tablet, and began fumbling through it like he
was working or searching for something, being as nonchalant as possible,
all the while his thoughts racing in near panic, torn between the insidious
implications of what he overheard and the twin blister packs stuffed down
the front of his pants.

He nearly jumped out of his skin but managed barely to contain it, when
Doctor Ventrov suddenly called out his name.

Matt turned, looking up from his pad, taking in the two men he now regarded
with more than a little trepidation and increasing skepticism. He feigned
an inquisitive smile as he focused his attention on the Doctor, who, to
Matt's relief, merely informed him they were done for the day and he was
free to leave when he wanted to.

Matt just said: "Sure thing Doc" before scampering to set down the tablet
he'd been using and scooping up his jacket, before loading his laptop back
in its canvas carry bag.

He was just about to make for the door, when Doctor Ventrov called out his
name again, just as his hand had touched the smooth surface of one of the
double-wide swing doors.

Matt turned to face him, his mind racing as he imagined the worse...

"Sorry for the short day, but I'll get with you later this week. Coach
Myers and I wish to discuss some changes we'll be implementing over the
course of the next few weeks."

Matt just shrugged his shoulders, pretending a calm he truly didn't feel at
the moment before stammering: "Okie doke doc, catchya later." before making
a hasty exit, making only one stop to a public bathroom where he
transferred the two blister packs to his laptop travel bag.

Now, as he pulled onto the main road, leaving the ReGen Pharmaceutical Lab
behind him, Matt, more than ever, pondered the future, and even more
importantly, his role in it.

It was obvious from the doc's and the coach's discussion, that nothing was
what it seemed and Matt was growing tired of people thinking they could
just use him any way they wanted. Well, two can play at that game, he
thought to himself, patting the contents of the side pocket of his laptop
travel bag.

If it was control they were after, it was control they would get, and all
Matt had to do, was make sure it wasn't the type of control they expected!


                                                                    <<<<<<<O>>>>>>>


"This could get a bit tricky" Matt said to himself, as he sent his response
to Hunter Milsbane, telling him what time he could come over and let him
know to park in the alley where he'd meet him at the back door to his home
later.

Matt's parents had just left a few minutes prior, stating they were going
shopping and meeting friends for lunch and not to expect them back until
around dinner time.

Brian, his older brother, had left earlier, much to Matt's relief, to spend
some time with his girlfriend. Apparently, they had some sort of
disagreement the day before and she had invited him to her dorm to discuss
things, and Matt got the impression his brother was hoping they'd make up,
and also didn't expect to be back anytime soon.

To be truthful, after his date with Blake the night before, he had been
considering whether he wanted to continue things with Hunter. But, after
having the night to sleep on it, he felt, that for now, it was probably in
his best interest to try and keep Hunter on a short leash, thinking that in
the short term, it might prove advantageous, though he wasn't exactly sure
how yet, he wasn't ready to burn any bridges he might find useful in the
future.

Hunter wasn't much, but right now, he was the only one that was truly
exhibiting the kind of behavioral influence the coach and Dr. Ventrov had
hoped would occur; which Matt also found troubling.

Even without knowing what he had overheard yesterday, from day one he had
wondered why they would even want to achieve such a goal. His instincts,
even before they started this, had told him that something wasn't quite
adding up, and after yesterday he was more certain than ever there was far
more to this than he had originally thought or had been presented to him.

It was a shame though, for the most part, he really liked Coach Myers. It
wasn't just the fact he embodied everything that Matt considered made a man
a stud, but he'd always given Matt the impression he was a stand-up kind of
guy, someone who had been the underdog early on, much like the way Matt
viewed himself at times, but had found his way through his adversity and
come out on the other side a better person for it.

But now, he wasn't so sure. Which gave him all the more reason to keep
whatever support he could muster until he could garner a greater
understanding of exactly what he was dealing with, and to also redouble his
efforts in pushing his fledgling abilities without revealing or drawing,
even more, undue attention on himself.

For now, that meant keeping Hunter close, maybe even closer than he was
now. Second, he needed to find out how the coach and Doctor Ventrov seemed
to know he was influencing Hunter and why the coach thought that Hatch was
too. That one had surprised him the most since he had seen no evidence of
that himself. Quite the opposite. If anything, Matt felt more like putty in
Hatch's hands than he ever had.

Did the coach know that he and Hatch had "hooked up" in the shower that
time? Did he think it had happened because Matt had somehow influenced
Hatch and made him act the way he had?

Matt couldn't just dismiss this idea. He had to face the reality if the
situation, that despite the horrible way Hatch had treated him, he had in
all truth and honesty enjoyed every minute of it.

It hadn't escaped his notice, that the reality of that encounter, the
unsettling truth might all boil down to Hatch behaving exactly the way Matt
had expected and worse yet, wanted him to.

If that was the case, then it only proved that somehow, someway, the coach
had been privy to that encounter. Either that, or Hatch had been encouraged
to do so, and or reported or bragged about it to either the coach or within
earshot of him or to someone reporting to him.

More than ever, Matt was wondering if he should tell Talia about what's
been going on. At least then he'd have someone else covering his back. His
biggest fear in telling her was that somehow her father the sheriff might
learn about it somehow, and that was the last thing Matt wanted to happen,
especially after what he did last night, during his date with Blake.

In the shitstorm that his life was turning out to be recently, last night
with Blake had been a much-needed oasis in the chaos enveloping his life.

From the moment he had picked him up, to the time he dropped him off and
walked him to the front door of his house where he thanked him for a fun
evening before swooping in and planting a quick first peck on the lips,
saying goodnight, and promising to call soon. Even before driving off into
the night leaving Matt swooning on the front porch of his house as he
smiled and waved at him, like some giddy schoolgirl as he drove off into
the night, Matt had been smitten with him.

Which made what he did during their date all the more morally and ethically
dubious at best. Leaving Matt to now wonder, if he even liked the person he
was becoming.

It was true, in his defense, at the time it had been done with the best of
intentions. He truly thought his actions would help Blake, even if they
didn't end up together.

But in hindsight, he could see, and he had to admit, in part, he'd also
been selfishly motivated.

During the course of their evening, Matt learned a lot about Blake. How it
was just him and his dad at home. That his mom and dad divorced when he was
still a little kid and she just completely dropped out of their lives. That
he hadn't truly appreciated the sacrifices his dad had made for him until
recently. That, until he turned eighteen and became a senior, the only
thing he had really focused on was sports and his passion for muscle
cars. But now that he was older and his whole future lay before him, he now
found himself more focused on the things that really mattered. Like
spending time with his dad, helping him around his shop, and in general,
just taking stock of his life and what he wanted from it.

He loved playing baseball, but now it had become more of a means to an
end. As captain of the school team, there was a real chance at getting some
scholarships to help with college, but that it depended on him keeping up
his grade point average, something he had always struggled with.

Then there was the growing competition he faced from younger guys on the
team, hungry for his spot. As well as other nearby schools with athletes
just as hungry as he was for those coveted scholarships.

His dad did okay with the shop, and it kept food on the table and a roof
over their heads, but there wasn't a lot in the way of spare capital, and
if he couldn't keep his grades up and excel in his sport, he feared losing
out the limited options open to him. It was why he was spending so much
time at the gym recently.

The entire time he talked, Matt had two things running through his mind.

One was the continuous loop of Hatch's taunts about Blake's manhood and the
other was Blake's own fear that he might not be physically or academically
impressive enough to win those scholarships.

Matt knew that between him and Talia, being grade "A" students, they'd be
able to help him with the academic stuff. But the thing that was troubling
him now, was that he had allowed himself to believe he now held in his
inside coat pocket, the answer to the other two problems and while they had
concluded their evening together by stopping to get a bite to eat at the
local burger joint and Blake had excused himself at one point to go to the
bathroom, Matt had thrown all caution to the wind and reached inside that
coat pocket and popped two pills out, one from each card, and without a
second thought, slid both into Blake's half-eaten hamburger, then silently
sat there when he returned and watched him scarf the rest down, all the
while thinking he had just done Blake the biggest favor of his life.

That was until this morning when he woke up and realized what he had done
was impetuous, and was now leaving him consumed by guilt.

It would be completely different if Blake had been given a choice and opted
to voluntarily take one or the other, but that wasn't what had happened.

Either way, the choice had been made and whether it turned out to be a
complete disaster or the best thing that ever happened to Blake, there was
no turning back now, and the best thing Matt could do was be there for him
no matter what the outcome.

Matt was brought out of his reverie by the buzz of his phone on his
nightstand... Hunter had just pulled in out back. " Here we go" Matt
thought to himself.


                                                                        <<<<<<O>>>>>>


"Mmmm, that was so tasty!" Matt thought to himself as he knelt there on the
floor beside his bed between Hunter Milsbane's muscular hirsute thighs,
slurping up the last thick, gooey dregs of the second biggest load of cum
he had ever swallowed. The first was the one he guzzled down prior to this
one.

Matt had thought the load Hunter shot the last time they were together had
been huge, but apparently, this Kansas farm boy had been holding out on
him.

Matt's fist pumped Hunter's cock once again, milking the shaft from the
base to the head of his huge, lavender-hued, helmet-shaped knob, twisting
his fingers in a milking motion, like a maid milking a cow's udder, forcing
yet another large goopy blob of viscous, potent sperm to ooze from Hunter's
gasping piss slit for Matt to slurp up greedily.

As much as Matt wanted to dive back down on Hunter's still swollen, rock
hard cock and suck him off a third time, something Hunter himself seemed
very much hopeful for, he had a few questions that had been roiling around
in the back of his mind all morning, even while grappling with Hunter's
girthy pole stretching his throat and fully pushing the limits of his
self-control over his gag reflex.

But the need to have some answers outweighed his hunger at the moment for
more of Hunter's tasty testicular nectar. There should be more time for
that after Hunter answered a few pressing questions Matt had.

Pushing back from Hunter's groin, and looking up past his hairy abs and
chest, into those big doe-like eyes, Matt locked gazes with Hunter, who
merely looked back at him with an expectant, vacuous longing and carnal
expectancy for even more of Matt's oral talents on his rock hard throbbing
farm boy boner.

Matt had to hand it to him, despite any of his other questionable
attributes, Hunter was proving he was quite the malleable and potent, eager
to please lover or fuck buddy as the case may be.

He knew, with just a little guidance, he could mold Hunter into a nearly
perfect sex-machine. Loyal to a fault, even if that loyalty was ethically
questionable.

Hunter was a follower, he lacked the mental fortitude and disposition or
temperament to be left alone to his own devices. With Matt's help, he was
certain he could fix that, and even more certain he could shape Hunter into
quite the stallion, not that he wasn't already, but the potential was there
for, even more, evidenced in the recent gains Matt had been noting, not
only in Hunter but the other three as well.

In just the last two weeks Matt had noted the overall improvements in all
of them.

In Hunter's case, he had grown over an inch in height. Where he used to be
five feet eleven inches, he was now a little over six feet. And that growth
didn't stop vertically. Everything else about him had expanded as well.

His chest was broader, his arms, thighs, calves, and neck thicker, even his
cock and balls seemed larger, though not having grown at quite the scale as
the rest of him, it was still very noticeable from the previous weeks.

As his eyes continued to assess the notable changes in Hunter's
physiognomy, his need for answers pushed him to ask: "Hunter, has the coach
or Dr. Ventrov ever talked to you or asked anything about me?"

"Like what Matt?" Hunter queried, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically.

Matt sighed, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a twenty questions
situation before he got the answers he sought.

"I don't know Hunter, that's why I'm asking you..." he paused for a moment,
thoughtfully considering potentially having to frame his questions a
different way: "Let me rephrase my question Hunter, have you mentioned
anything about me to coach or the Doc?"

Like a dim light flickering sporadically, Hunter's eyes seemed to roll
upward as he considered Matt's question when his eyes suddenly went a
little wider: "Coach did ask me how our sessions have been goin' the other
day, is that what ya meant Matt?"

Shaking his head, Matt took a moment to calm his nerves, knowing full well
that it wasn't Hunter's fault and that he wasn't deliberately trying to be
contentious or obtuse.

"Yes, Hunter.." he finally said, doing his best to keep the timbre of his
voice under control: "What did you tell him?"

The crease between Hunter's eyebrows narrowed and his nose scrunched in
concentration before answering: "I don't remember word for word Matt, but I
know I said somethin' 'bout you hav'in really good ideas and you were
helpin' me do better and stuff."

Matt didn't know if he had made a face that Hunter picked up on, or whether
he just sensed Matt's agitation, but when Matt didn't respond right away,
Hunter asked quizzically, with a hint of worry in his voice: "Did I do
somethin' wrong, Matt, if I did I didn't mean too, I just get confused
sometimes."

Matt could hear the sincerity in Hunter's voice and despite their past
history, the Hunter he knew today was nothing like the one he imagined him
to be in the past: "No Hunter you didn't do anything wrong. But in the
future, I want you to do something for me okay?"

Hunter's eyes lit up, enthusiasm wrote all over his face: "Anythin' Matt, I
told ya, I'm a team player and you can always count on me a hundred
percent."

Matt shot him a serious look, holding eye contact with him to emphasize his
point: "From now on, whenever coach or Doc ask you anything, you make sure
you let me know as soon as you can..." Matt let that sink in for a minute,
waiting for Hunter to nod his head in agreement, before adding: "If they
ask you about me, just tell them I make you laugh, but other than that, you
don't have much to do with me."

No sooner had the words escaped his mouth and Hunter seemed poised to
respond, there was the slam of the back door downstairs, followed
immediately by the grumbling rumblings of his older sibling Brian, shouting
out, asking if anyone was home.

Matt couldn't help but notice the strong undercurrent of anger in his voice
as he shouted out in response.

"I'm home, mom and dad are still out."

Having said that, Matt turned back to Hunter, who still sat there reclining
on his bed, buck ass naked with his fat boner sticking straight up in the
air.

In a flash, Matt scampered to scoop up Hunter's discarded clothes and
tossed them at him while cautioning him to be as quiet as possible: "I'm
going downstairs to talk to my brother, you get dressed and wait right
here, Hunter!"

Hunter didn't verbally respond, he just nodded his head and began pulling
his clothing on as quickly as he could.

Matt crossed the room and had just opened the door, when Brian came
bullishly stomping up the stairs, leaving Matt barely time to shut his door
while Hunter struggled to pull his jeans up, sans underwear.

"Whose truck is parked in my spot out back?" Brian demanded, his face a
mask of twisted, pent-up emotions.

Something told Matt there was far more wrong than someone parked in the
wrong spot down by the alley road. It wasn't like there wasn't ample room
for more than one vehicle, but Matt responded anyway, trying to sound
empathetic as possible, not wanting to further agitate his brother, at
least not as long as Hunter was still probably trying to get dressed on the
other side of his bedroom door.

"Its my friend Hunter's truck, he just came by to do some studying" Matt
stated, suppressing his own mounting anxiety as he did so.

Brian just cocked his head slightly sideways, before positing: "Ain't that
one of the Milsbane boys?"

Matt was about to respond, wondering how best to defuse his brother's
mounting temper, when Brian just blurted in his face: "Actually, ya know
what? I don't give a shit, just tell your *little friend* to get his ass
down there and move his truck before I do it for him, got it!?"

Matt usually wasn't one prone to respond in anger, but Brian's attitude,
combined with his implied suggestion of *little friend* just hit Matt the
wrong way at the right time.

In a flash, Matt thrust his chest out and jabbed his index finger into his
older siblings, hard hairy chest: "Listen hear asshole, here's what's gonna
happen..." Matt fumed, emphasizing each syllable of every word spoken with
a jab of his finger: "You're gonna go sit your ass down on the bed in your
room and wait for me until I'm done talking to Hunter or I swear to god
I'll make you clean every square inch of our bathroom floor with your
fucking tongue!"

Matt didn't know who was more surprised by his sudden outburst, him or his
brother. But what he did know, was the almost immediate effect it had on
Brian.

You could have pushed Matt over with a feather, when Brian suddenly dropped
his chin to his broad chest, watched as his shoulders slumped, eyes glued
submissively to the floor between his feet: "Yes Matt, I'm sorry...I'll
wait for you in my room."

Words escaped Matt. He knew he had influenced his brother before, but this
was next level. This was nothing like the response he half expected. But
the scope of what just happened came in staggering waves, gushing over Matt
as he pondered the weight and significance of it.

His brother, at any other given time and place, could easily snap him in
two like a twig. But here he now was, shuffling languidly to his room,
cowed and humbled, and more importantly, completely obedient.

Matt did his best to soothe his racing heartbeat as a torrent of questions
and possibilities spread out before him, none of which he had immediate
answers for. What did matter, however, was the immediate effect it was now
having on his brother and guiltily realizing there was something more than
just Matt affecting his brother. He now owed it to his brother to get to
the core of his current anger.

After a couple of moments, Matt made his way to Brian's room, where he
found him, in the shadows of the late afternoon, sitting forlornly, with
his hands folded in his lap on his bed, staring blankly at the space
between them.

Matt sat quietly down next to him, placing a reassuring hand on his
shoulder as he did so: "What's wrong Brian?" he asked softly, knowing full
well this wasn't Brian's usual behavior.

It took him a few moments, before he sighed heavily, responding dejectedly:
"Merissa and I broke up."

That pretty much said it all. Brian and Merissa had been together since
high school and though they've always had their share of ups and downs,
this somehow didn't seem to be something that just came right out of the
blue.

After a few moments of shared silence, Brian continued: "I think we've been
heading in this direction for a while, her interest and mine have just
grown to far apart and what worked in high school just hasn't been cutting
it for either of us lately."

He paused for a moment. glancing over at Matt: "I'm sorry about the other
night, that wasn't me, I don't know what came over me..." he stammered for
a minute, before concluding: "It's just been quite a while since Merissa
and I have actually had sex, I just seemed to lose control of myself, I
hope you don't hate me for it?"

Brian looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with him as Matt searched
for an effective response.

"Ya know what dude?" Matt began, slapping his brother playfully on the
shoulder before standing up, commanding his attention in the process.

"I ain't gonna lie, I think we both know I enjoyed it almost as much as you
did..." Matt held his hands up defensively halting preemptively any
potential response by Brian: "I'm not saying I want to go there again, it
just surprised me that my big brother and I would have something sexual in
common, you being the big bro jock type and all."

Brian's eyes narrowed tersely: "I'm not gay Matty"

Matt chuckled, retorting sardonically: "So what would you call the other
night Bri, cause you sure seemed "into it" to me, I had the sore ass and
throat the next day to prove it."

Brian dropped his eyes to the floor again, filling Matt with a sense of
guilt. He knew full well why Brian had succumbed, and it didn't have
anything to do with Brian being gay, proof of that was in the next room.

"Maybe I'm bi?" Brian offered meekly, though not sounding to convinced,
despite the evidence to the contrary.

Something occurred to Matt at that moment, it was just a glimmer of an
idea, one that might pan out for the both of them.

They had crossed a line, one they could never uncross. One Matt had set in
motion with his lack of control over his growing capabilities and Brian
coming to terms with an ending relationship and now questioning his own
sexuality.

Maybe Matt could kill multiple birds with one stone, or at least plan for a
worst-case scenario.

Matt went through Brian's bathroom door and headed straight for his jacket,
ignoring a curious Hunter who eyed his actions with rapt attention.

Matt selected the card he wanted and popped out one of the yellow,
time-released capsules before shoving the blister pack back in his jacket
pocket.

Grabbing the water bottle left on his nightstand Matt headed back to
Brian's room and thrust his hand out, palm up with the yellow capsule in it
while simultaneously offering Brian the half-full bottle of water.

"Take this" Matt ordered.

Brian plucked it cautiously from his hand, examining it: "What's this for?"
he asked quizzically.

Matt held his ground. Brian didn't ask for any of this, but despite that,
he was mixed up in it anyway and if things went south, there was no one
more he wanted by his side, covering his back than his own brother, and
considering what they could potentially be up against, he couldn't leave
his own brother out there dangling in the wind without at least some sort
of equalizer.

Matt shrugged: "Just take it, it will help you feel better." was all he
said before Brian just shrugged his shoulders and downed the capsule with a
swig of water.

Shaking his head knowingly and smiling faintly, Matt hollered out for
Hunter to join them.

As Hunter slowly made his way into the room, Matt motioned for him to sit
next to his brother as he made introductions: "Hunter, this is my brother
Brian."

They both clasped hands, eliciting a smile from Matt as they both, almost
in complete unison, greeted each other with a: "S'up bro."

Matt felt kind of giddy, picturing himself as some sort of matchmaker,
though his amusement seemed to escape the duo.

Knowing this might take some finessing, Matt ramped up his pheromone
release, flooding the confined space of Brian's room with an amalgamation
of various hormonal commands, sex not being the least of these.

He knew he was on the right track when he saw Hunter's cock begin to expand
and stretch down his inner thigh, trapped inside his pants leg and bulging
obscenely.

It didn't escape Brian's notice either as he to began fidgeting on the edge
of his bed his own groin plumping expansively, tenting the front of his
sweat pants.

Both shot each other furtive, nervous glances that flitted to each other's
crotches repeatedly as they tried to be unobtrusive about their mounting
desires.

When he was sure they were ready, Matt outlined what he expected from each
of them: "Hunter I want you to start taking wrestling instruction from
Brian."

Hunter said nothing, just shook his head in silent acknowledgment, leaving
Matt free to turn to his brother: "Brian, I want you to take Hunter under
your wing and for the pair of you to seek out and take whatever
self-defense course you can fit into your daily schedules together."

Matt half expected Brian to raise some sort of objection, but was relieved
when his eyes lit up and he blurted excitedly: "I know this MMA guy who
teaches self-defense classes at the midtown gym, would that do?"

"Yup, absolutely, sounds perfect" Matt mused, adding: "I might even join
you guys now and then."

He then focused his attention on Hunter again: "Remember the talk we had
earlier Hunter about the coach and Doc?"

Hunter just nodded his head as his brow furrowed in concentration.

Well at least he's consistent, Matt thought to himself, before continuing:
"You can't let anyone else know what you two are up to, if anyone asks
either of you, just say your best buds and you like hanging out together."

Hunter grunted, the corners of his mouth twisting into a slight smile:
"That won't be hard, it all sounds like my kind of fun anyway."

Brian's hand shot up instantly and the pair high-fived each other, forcing
a smile and a chuckle from Matt: "What have I started?" he said out loud,
to no one in particular, calling their attention back on himself.

Matt steeled himself for a moment, flooding the room with the pent-up
sexual desires that he had felt from earlier, that he had yet gratified
while sucking Hunter's fat juicy dick. Not that he wanted to now, but he
knew he could use that passion to help seal this new alliance between Brian
and Hunter. All it should take was a little prompting in the right
direction.

"Hunter, remember what I told you about saving something for me?" Matt
queried, as Hunter winked and nodded his head impishly, giving Matt a
lascivious grin.

"From now on, I want you to save it for Brian."

Hunter's eyebrows raised as he gave Brian some serious side-eye action,
clearly wondering if that was actually gonna happen. Matt decided it was
time to lay some cards on the table and get the ball rolling for them.

Matt instructed Hunter to stand up, which he readily did, though still
tossing glances now and then back at Brian: "Strip Hunter."

For the first time in a while, Hunter hesitated, it was only for a couple
of seconds though as he soon just shrugged his shoulders and stripped down
until he was completely naked and his fat, swollen, rock hard erection
bobbled lewdly in front of him, already drooling precum from his piss slit.

Matt pushed him further: "Hunter, turn around and show Brian what a nice
ass you have!"

Again, there was a slight hesitation as Hunter now looked questioningly at
Matt before the compulsion to obey overrode whatever trepidation he was
mulling over.

Hunter slowly turned, arching his back, thrusting the twin muscle taut
globes of his voluptuous bubblebutt back toward Brian, who reacted just as
Matt knew he would, by licking his lips expectantly as his mouth watered
and his erection throbbed in his sweatpants.

Even as Matt motioned for Brian to join him in the bathroom, he could
barely take his eyes off of Hunter's bountiful ass.

As Matt pushed Brian into the bathroom, he instructed Hunter to lay face
down lengthwise on Brian's bed and wait for him. He knelt for a second to
whisper one final instruction in Hunter's ear: "From now on Hunter, you
listen to Brian and do whatever he wants you to, okay?"

Hunter answered by scampering up onto the bed, his ass poised suggestively
in the air, his face planted sideways on the mattress: "Ya know I'm a team
player Matt, you can count on me to get the job done, no matter what it
is."

Matt smiled back at him, giving him two thumbs up before slipping into the
bathroom with Brian and shutting the door behind him.

Getting right to the point, Matt confronted his much bigger brother, being
as direct as possible: "Lets cut right to the chase, do you want to fuck
that ass, and by fuck it, I mean anytime, anywhere as often as you want,
whenever you want?"

The near snarling grunt of pure, unadulterated lust that rumbled past
Brian's lips said it all, causing Matt, for the second time that evening,
to jab his finger into Brian's chest: "If you want that then you're gonna
have to give something in return."

Brian's smoldering eyes locked on Matt's. There was now more than just a
vague wisp of lustful desperation subsuming his facial features: "What do I
gotta do for it?" Brian finally managed to grunt.

Matt smiled disarmingly, responding: "Two things actually...Matt mused,
nearly taunting his anxious but ready brother: "He loves having his ass
eaten."

His sibling only grimaced slightly before retorting: "Doable, what's the
second thing?"

Matt knew this would be the deal-breaker, but he was equally certain,
judging by his brother's anxiousness to get back into his room, that he'd
cave when he weighed it in comparison to what he'd be gaining.

Matt decided to just rip the band-aid off: "Nothing turns Hunter on more
than having his dick sucked."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" Brian grumbled instantly, adding quickly: "I ain't gay
Matt."

The look of desperation and stoic cynicism that warred within Brian was an
open book to Matt, causing him to respond: "Those are the terms dude,
sometimes you gotta give to receive, besides, weren't you just saying you
might be bi?"

Brian shot him a stern look, his lips practically quivering as he fumbled
for an effected retort, but coming up blank.

Matt took pity on him as he swept around Brian and went into his own room,
pulled open his nightstand drawer and fished out the bottle of lube he kept
there, before returning to Brian and thrusting it into his hands and
stating succinctly: "Dude we both know you ain't passing that ass up, so
strip down, lube up and quit being a pussy."

Brian snatched the bottle of lube from his hands and snarled at him, nearly
baring his teeth as he did so, before brushing past him, heading back to
his own room, not even bothering to shut the door behind him.

"Typical" Matt laughed as he left them to it, returning to the relative
safety of his own room, to ponder what his next course of actions would be
while he smiled in amusement as the rhythmic sounds of grunts and groans
filled the void between Matt, his brother and a squealing Hunter Milsbane,
caught in the throes of ecstasy.


                                                                       <<<<<<O>>>>>>


"So, let me get this straight, no pun intended..." Talia Brooks chortled
sardonically, continuing: "You had a hot date with one of the best prime
examples of Avalon Highs most eligible studs and all you did was let him
give you a quick smooch on the lips?"

"Pretty much..." Matt smirked, adding: "In my defense, I didn't want to
come across as a total ho' on what was essentially I first real date." Matt
concluded, while retrieving a couple of books he needed to take with him
for the homework he needed to do later that evening from his locker, as
Talia rolled her eyes mockingly, leaning against the locker next to his:
"But you are a ho' dipshit and he deserved more than a quick kiss, you
could have at least given him a handjob or something!"

Matt knew she was just taunting him, that in actuality she was just
bursting at the seams to say "Told ya so" for her part in playing
matchmaker between him and Blake.

"Oh, believe me, Talia..." he concluded, giving her the most suggestive
sneer he could muster: "When the time is right, he won't know what hit
him!"

Talia laughed out loud, punching him on the shoulder playfully: "You're
such a slutty fag." she mused, giving him one of her patent-pending,
quirky, hair flipping side-eye sneers.

Matt chuckled bemusedly, giving her a coy wink: "And that's just one of the
many fine qualities you adore about me!"

They parted ways after that, Talia having her school paper, extracurricular
duties to perform.

Blake had told him earlier that he had to work that afternoon at his dad's
shop, but still offered to give Matt a ride home after school since Talia
wouldn't be able to.

Matt knew that would take him in the opposite direction and told him he
really didn't mind catching the bus and didn't want to inconvenience him.

Blake was really sweet about it, but Matt had insisted and their
conversation ended with Blake promising to call him later that evening.

Matt had a few minutes before his bus would be ready to leave, so he
decided to swing by the gym to download his early entrees on the tablet he
used for Dr. Ventrov onto his laptop so he could review them at home.

He was just on his way out of the gym, having completed his task when an
old beat-up Chevy Silverado pulled up beside him and came to an abrupt
stop.

Matt knew who drove that truck and he turned to face him, just as its
occupant rolled down the window and glowered at him.

"Get in!" James Hatcher grumbled, making it sound more like a command than
a suggestion.

"I'm fine thanks" Matt quipped, his arms folding around his laptop canvas
bag carry case protectively hugging it closer to him.

Hatch's eyes just bore right into him, his brows furrowing tightly: "I said
get in, we need to talk."

Matt's first instinct was to head in the opposite direction, get on his bus
and try to ignore Hatch completely.

But then there was this other part of him, that wanted nothing more than to
jump in that truck in the hopes that something like the other week might
happen again.

Visions of Hatch's fat cock bouncing before him, waiting to be serviced,
danced in his mind's eye, reliving and embellishing that previous
encounter, until he felt the stirrings of his own cock within the confines
of his jeans.

To his own amazement, Matt found himself circling around Hatch's beat-up,
old orange and cream, duo-toned truck and climbed into the passenger side
seat.

"Whatever you have to say, make it quick I have a bus to catch," Matt said
as firmly as he could, while simultaneously avoiding eye contact.

Hatch answered by stomping on the gas and making his way out of the school
parking lot.

Matt was about to protest when Hatch blurted: "I'll make sure you get
home."

And that was it, no further discussion, no sideways glances. Just James
Hatcher, eyes glued to the road, while the awkward silence between them
continued to grow into a near-deafening silence.

Matt didn't know where they were heading, he just knew they had passed city
limits about five minutes prior before he finally found the nerve to speak
up: "Where are we going?" He asked timidly, watching as the truck veered
off the main road onto a dirt one.

Hatch didn't even glance his way, his eyes still completely focused on the
road ahead: "Wherever I want..." Hatch grunted, as his lips curled into a
toothy sneer, adding: "Why ya asking, ain't this what little faggots like
you wet your panties over, being with a real man?"

Matt felt his heart practically skipped a beat.

So this is what was up, Matt thought to himself. He could practically smell
it on him. That deep primal urge, the animalistic desire that hormonally
drove one to acts of passion.

Hatch reeked of it, so much so that Matt couldn't believe he had never
picked up on it before. It was like he was radiating pure testosterone and
Matt could smell it, hell it dominated his senses.

Matt couldn't take his eyes off Hatcher, his body tingled at their
proximity, and yet craving he close the short distance between them,
drawing him in.

He felt his heart rate elevate, just as he knew Hatch's had, could see his
nostrils flare as he sniffed the air, making him wonder to himself: "Could
he smell me too?"

As if in answer, Hatch suddenly veered the truck onto a path that lead
directly into a copse of trees and thick shrubbery, before slamming on the
breaks and bringing the truck to a stop.

Hatch hurled his driver-side door open and before getting out, he turned to
Matt, locking eyes with his: "Get out, we're here."

"Where was here?" Matt wondered to himself as he tentatively opened his
door and slid out, deciding to leave his travel case and backpack on the
front seat.

Surprisingly, he wasn't afraid of what might happen, which was pretty much
the way he had felt the last time they had been alone together. With the
heat and smells practically overwhelming his senses, there was little room
left for anything other than his mounting desire to rip Hatch's clothes
off, and judging by the lecherous way Hatch was eyeing him as they met at
the rear of his truck just as he lowered the tailgate and sat on it, there
wasn't a shred of uncertainty what he was thinking, especially when Matt
took notice of the massive straining bulge in his jeans, stretching the
fabric obscenely into a heated mound of masculine passion.

Working purely on instinct, Matt knew, that right now the power was
his. Meaning, the first move was his to make, nothing else would be
tolerated. So Matt just stood there, eyeing him cautiously waiting for the
moment he knew would come and wondering why this man made him feel this
way, especially after all the crap he'd put him through over the years.

Yet here he was, still drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, letting its
radiant heat scorch at him, but still diving in for more.

Matt watched as he leaned backward, reaching for a small dirty scratched-up
cooler that he plucked open and snatched a beer out of. Whatever ice once
contained within, long melted and completely disregarded by Hatch, who
flipped the tab on the beer and began guzzling it down, pausing only long
enough to grunt: "Strip faggot" before resuming gulping down the rest of
the contents of the can.

Matt stood there, frozen in place for a few seconds, a hesitancy that
elicited Hatch's impatient low grumble: "I said fucking strip, or I'll do
it for ya!"

By that, Matt knew he meant he'd rip them off, so he did as he was told,
not because Hatch had commanded him to, but because the straining boner in
his own pants had taken control and he had turned into its obedient,
willing servant.

As he slowly peeled his clothes off, he watched from the corner of his eye
as Hatch began doing the same, first his shirt, then his crusty old
worn-out cowboy boots, everything except his blue jeans, which he only
unfastened as he leaned against the tail-bed of his truck and eyed Matt
lasciviously as he finished stripping down completely.

Once naked, Matt turned to face him, his hands poised over his groin,
hiding his erection.

Without missing a beat, Hatch suddenly reached up and snatched a handful of
hair on top of Matt's head and pushed him down on his knees forcing his
face down level with his bulging crotch, twisting his head backward, until
their eyes locked again: "You know what we're here for, get to it!" Hatch
hissed before his lips parted into a wicked sneer, his hand pulling Matt's
face into his groin, rubbing it all over his straining bulge.

After a few seconds Hatch shoved his face back, releasing the handful of
hair from the top of his head as glowered down at him: "Got a special treat
for ya today..." He began, his voice a low rumble, centering in his broad
muscular chest: "I was working out in the weight room when I saw ya come
into fiddle with that tablet you use and I said to myself, ya know Hatch,
that little fags been working her dainty little fingers to the bone for the
coach and doc, so I told myself, Hatch, you need to show some appreciation
for all her dedication to the program."

He leaned down, his face mere inches from Matt's, his lips curling
sardonically: "So ya know what I did Matty?.."He paused for a second,
purely for dramatic effect: "I stopped working out and as fast as I could,
I scrambled to get dressed so I could meet you in the back parking lot so I
could take you someplace nice and cozy where you could enjoy the gift I
made for ya." One of Hatch's large hands snaked behind Matt's head and
gripped it firmly as the other unzipped his fly and hauled his cock and
balls out as his pants dropped to his knees.

Immediately, Hatch thrust Matt's face into his groin again, rubbing his big
hairy balls against Matt's mouth: "Can ya smell it, Matty? That's your
reward, some down-to-earth, homegrown sweaty Hatch balls to lick and suck
clean."

Hatch leaned back, chuckling as he forced Matt's lips apart with the
fingers of his hand and began stuffing his moist, pungent egg-sized gonads
into his mouth.

Using both hands on either side of his head now, he ground his hairy crotch
into Matt's lips: "Suck 'em clean fag and do a good job, or ya won't get
the other gifts I made for ya."

Matt couldn't help himself as he got lost in the ripe pungent flavor of
Hatch's sweaty ballsac and mindlessly obeyed the cackling jock, sucking
greedily on the twin hairy orbs, swabbing it with his wet drooling tongue
and swallowing the acrid, manly excreted juices gathered like a grunting
snorting piglet feeding at the troth that was James Hatcher's musky, sweaty
crotch, as his thick half-hard cock stretched over his face and past his
forehead in its inexorable journey into a rock hard erection.

After a few more moments, Hatch suddenly relaxed his grip on Matt's head
before plucking his saliva-drenched nuts from Matt's nursing mouth.

He patted Matt on the head, glaring down at him mischievously, his eyes
squinting in feigned merriment as he declared: "Are you ready for your next
treat Matty? This ones gonna be even tastier!"

Matt could do little more than nod his head as he licked his lips, enjoying
the last savory hint of Hatch's balls.

Without preamble, Hatch twirled around, spreading his legs wide as he
arched his back and thrust his hirsute butt-cheeks against Matt's face as
one of his large hands gripped the back of Matt's head and once again
shoved his lips against his overripe hole: "Lap it up faggot, clean my
stinky brown eye with that long fuckin' faggot tongue of yours."

Matt felt both repulsed and disgusted with himself as he slowly began doing
as he was commanded.

His tongue slowly snaked out, tentatively at first, flicking lightly over
the thick patch of course hairs that filled his entire sweat-drenched
crack, when Hatch rammed his face against his winking pucker.

"I said clean it ya fuckin' queer" Hatch bristled, forcing Matt's face
between his hairy muscular mounds and grinding his asshole against his taut
lips until he felt the hesitant flick of Matt's oral digit swab over his
funky hole.

It wasn't long before those gentle flicks turned into swabbing wet licks,
circling his pucker in ever-increasing lustful fervor, followed by the
grunting smacks of Matt's sucking lips as he hungrily devoured his
palpitating pucker.

Hatch leaned forward until his chest rested on the bed of his truck as he
released his grip on Matt's head and used both hands to pull his powerful
glutes apart affording Matt greater access to his spit-shined
bunghole. Matt increased the range of his cleaning duties, slaving Hatch's
sweaty ass trench in long broad, lingering strokes until his ass was so wet
the excess drool dribbled down over his tightening balls.

Matt could feel him suddenly tense up right before Hatch rose up and
flipped around kicking his jeans off from around his ankles before sitting
on the edge of the tailgate and flipping his thighs up to his heaving chest
as his sausage fingered hands spread the side of his asshole, framing the
most perfect manhole Matt had ever seen.

Matt had lost himself between those buns, a primal passion drove him now
and his mouth watered at the thought of diving back between those spread
eagle cheeks and shoving his tongue as far up Hatch's ass as he could.

"What are ya waitin' for you goddamn queer, you ain't done until ya get
that ass wiper of yours up my crapper and make it squeaky clean."

That was all the encouragement Matt needed in his current state of
mind. Conscious thought had been completely subsumed by carnal desire,
reducing Matt to nothing more than a servile instrument to be used for
Hatch's pleasure.

Matt did the only thing he could do, he dove into James's asshole,
thrusting his tongue as deep as he could into the torrid depths of Hatch's
fetid anus.

Hatch reach down and grabbed Matt by the hair on top of his head, and
stared down his body into the vacuous obedient eyes attached to the face of
the guy now skewering his tongue deep inside his rectum.

Locking eyes with Matt as he began using his hair as a handle to fuck his
own hole with Matt's rigid, soft, twirling tongue, Hatch chuckled wickedly:
"Look at you, ya disgusting fuckin' queer, cleaning a real man's ass with
your pathetic faggot tongue, eat it bitch, show me how much ya wanna be
used by me!"

Matt could only whimper as his tongue swirled around frantically in
Hatcher's funky hole, relishing every moment he was allowed to be there.

"Suck it faggot, suck my fuckin' stinky asshole like the pathetic fucking
queer you really are."

Matt did as instructed, wrapping his lips around his hole and sucking as
his tongue continued to plunge rapidly into his moist pungent depths.

He could hear Hatch speaking, but paid him no mind, it was actually easy
for him, he had heard this kind of thing usher out of Hatch's mouth before,
this was nothing new. But, this was different, different because he knew
something Hatcher didn't or as yet realized. He was fucking big bad butch
James Hatcher's ass. True, it was with his tongue, but what difference did
that make?

Even better than that though, was the fact he was also digging it...no, not
just digging it. Judging, by the way, he was thrusting and grinding his
hips and subsequently his hole against his probing, relentless tongue, he
was loving it.

Matt wasn't afforded the luxury much longer of drilling James butthole,
before he shoved Matt away and stood up, yanking his hair backward tilting
his head up at him, and spitting in his face repeatedly.

"Time to do what all faggots were born to do." Hatch rumbled, forcing the
blunt tip of his drooling cockhead against Matt's lips, spreading them
apart before plunging balls deep into his throat and holding him there as
Matt gagged and choked against the impaling member.

"That's one mighty fine mouth pussy ya got there cocksucker, I can't wait
to share it with the rest of the team." Hatch mused, chuckling lewdly as
his thumbs brushed away the cocksucker tears rolling down his cheeks while
he continued to gurgle and sputter around the base of his thick turgid
pole.

"Oh, don't worry Matty it's gonna be a while before you're ready for
that.."He teased, forcing his face to contort into a mocking mask of
concern: "I'm gonna have to make sure you're properly broken in before I
turn ya over to those guys, some of 'em ain't as gentle and kind like me."

Matt's need for oxygen mounted as Hatcher continued to ramble: "Trust me,
Matty, your gonna appreciate the time I spend breaking you in, 'cause some
of them boys... well, let's just say some of 'em are even bigger than yours
truly and that ain't no exaggeration."

Matt didn't really care what Hatcher was saying, he was getting desperate
for air now.

Hatch must have sensed his urgent need as he eased up on his grip and
allowed his cock to slip out of his throat long enough to take a couple of
quick breaths before plunging back in and grinding his balls against Matt's
chin.

"Then again..." Hatch boasted: "That must pretty much sound like faggot
heaven to a cocksuckin', asslickin' queer like you."

Matt felt his grip tighten on the back of his head again and braced himself
for what he knew would come next.

Hatch yanked his dick almost completely out of his mouth, leaving only the
swollen helmet-shaped head lodged in his mouth before ramming it back in,
slamming Matt's forehead against his solar plexus.

Matt continued to try and center himself as Hatch began his assault on his
mouth and throat, brutally slamming in and out in ever-faster increments
until he was practically pile driving into him.

Just as he anticipated, like before, Hatch was going for the quick release
and in just a couple of minutes, Hatch's girthy schlong spewed his massive
payload right down Matt's esophagus.

Grinding his bloated nuts against Matt's chin, pumping them tightly,
forcing their contents into Matt's palpitating throat.

This load was bigger than the previous two Hatch had fed him last time,
leaving Matt to wonder if that too was a result of the stuff the doc was
giving them.

Hatch's dick had most certainly grown since last time, probably a good inch
or so, much like the rest of him.

As the last dregs of nut juice dribbled down Matt's throat, he wondered if,
like last time, he'd go for round two immediately following.

He almost felt disappointed when Hatch shoved him away and his
saliva-coated dick plopped out of his mouth.

Matt had barely licked the last of Hatch's tasty load off his lips when he
thrust his hands under Matt's armpits and lifted him to his feet before
shoving his face down and bent over the tailgate of his truck.

Barely having a second to catch his breath, he felt the wet tip of James's
dick against his asshole.

He could hear Hatcher snickering behind him just as he smacked his ass:
"You've been such a good girl today, I've decided to make your biggest
dream come true faggot."

With that Hatch rammed the full length of his nearly ten-inch cock balls
deep into his unprepared hole.

Matt didn't know if he passed out in pain or was knocked out by the force
of his head as it slammed into the metal surface of Hatch's truck bed, but
by the time he shook it off, his butthole was throbbing like it was being
repeatedly stabbed by a red hot poker.

Hatcher's assault on his aching hole was relentless, a vertiginous gut
pounding massacre of his rectal walls, as he punch fucked him repeatedly in
rapid, bone-jarring succession.

"Gawd damn faggot, you got a tight pussy" He heard Hatch snarl behind him
breathlessly as he continued to pummel into him, further emphasizing his
point by repeatedly smacking Matt's ass cheeks as hard as he could.

Despite his relentless assault and the searing pain, his big fat dick
inflicted on his nearly dry hole, on each inward/outward stroke, the large,
flared protuberance of his glans coronal ridge, raked across his prostate,
sending finger-like tendrils radiating up his spine, each time, causing
Matt to shudder uncontrollably as it mounted in intensity, building
fervently until he realized he was actually thrusting his hips back at him
in time with his plunging maypole.

The smacks of Hatcher's hand grew louder and more frequent as his
unbelievable tempo built to a rampaging crescendo that left Matt gasping
for breath. Each pistoning plunge drove them both into a flurry of
reckless, wanton abandon, until, like a breaking damn, the flood gates of
passion sent Matt into a spiraling orgasm. Not from his dick, but centered
in his anal cavity. And like a lightning strike, it shot throughout his
body, leaving him nothing more than a whimpering, spasming lump of
convulsing flesh, sobbing and incoherently begging and wanting more.

Hatch froze as Matt practically raped himself on his marauding wanger,
nearly screaming: "Fuck my pussy, fuck my pussy!" over and over again like
a nymphomaniac in heat.

Hatch sneered viciously down at him, proud of his handiwork as Matt went
nearly insane with fiery lust, pumping and squeezing his swollen, abused
hole against him as the tidal waves of pleasure bombarded his senses: "Do
it bitch, rape your fuckin' faggot vagina on my mutha fuckin' fag basher!"

Matt's feverish tempo finally pushed Hatch over the edge, causing him to
throw himself on top of him, wrapping his powerful arms tightly around him,
securing his hold as his own body-wracking orgasm exploded from the
flaring, spewing head of his glans orifice.

Torrents of near molten jism rocketed into Matt's rapacious, quivering
guts, flooding him to overflowing with the thick, viscous masculine juices:
"Take my load you fuckin faggot whore, eat my fuckin' redneck dick with
your nasty queer cunt!" Hatch growled in his ear.

Neither of them knew how long their orgasms had lasted, the sheer magnitude
of their volcanic eruptions had deprived them both of any sense of time or
space. They had attained a near nirvanic bliss that had elevated them
beyond the mere limits of their mortal flesh and had caused them to ascend
like gods into a parity of carnal communion neither had ever achieved
before.

They lay there panting, gasping for air, their hot sweaty flesh grinding
and slipping against one another, unable to speak or form coherent words or
sentences, basking, for a time, in the afterglow of their tumultuous union.

Hatch was first to regain some of his composure, pushing himself up, his
meaty phallus slowly retracting from the sheave of Matt's gaping rectum as
he slid off the bed of the truck until his feet touched the ground.

He stared down at Matt's puffy swollen hole, smiling lecherously at his
handiwork, proud he had so completely annihilated it and the person it was
attached to.

Smirking gregariously, with pure wicked intent, Hatch grabbed a handful of
Matt's hair and hauled him from the truck by it, until he knelt at his
feet.

Weak and subdued by the fruits of their labor, all Matt could do was stare
up at him blankly, his swollen lips and aching throat making it near
impossible to speak.

Hatch stepped closer, the seeping end of his swollen, half-hard member
gently brushing against Matt's puffy lips: "Look at it faggot, look at the
dick that wrecked your cunt."

Matt did look at it, it filled his vision and devoured his senses as it
dangled there, covered in a shiny patina of Hatch's cummy fuck
juices. Looking mean and angry, virile and potent, Matt thought it was the
most beautiful thing he had ever seen, a sculpted perfection molded by
divine hands, much like the rest of the body it was attached to.

He didn't just look at it, he was mesmerized by its pure masculine
austerity, knowing full well it had reduced him to rubble. Yet, he still
wanted more.

"He has a new name ya know" Hatch mused sardonically, his face twisted into
a mocking mask: "Wanna know what it is?" he added coyly, reveling in his
own dubious cleverness.

Matt just stared at it, unable to look away, his abused hole twitching
involuntarily at the merest mention of it out loud.

Hatch snickered, his lips contorting into a lascivious grimace: "His new
name is Fag Basher."

Matt could hear his chuckle, obviously amusing himself, regardless of
Matt's feelings.

But, that had always been the case between them, nothing had changed, James
Hatcher was still the same asshole he had always been, just bigger and
stronger and even more full of himself if that were humanly possible: "Kiss
it!" he demanded, the timbre of his voice leaving no doubt he expected to
be obeyed.

Matt did the only thing he could, the only thing he had the energy
for... he kissed it.

He had no sooner parted his lips to plant the requested kiss, when Hatcher
rammed his half-hard erection, gooey, frothy spunk and all, down Matt's
throat.

"Suck it clean gay boy!" He commanded, grinding his course pubes against
Matt's nostrils and sore puffy lips.

Complying, Matt did as instructed, there was little else he could do. He
sucked and swallowed until Hatch's dick was squeaky clean.

He felt Hatcher's callused hand caress his cheek softly with one hand,
while firmly holding his head in place with the other.

After a few prolonged moments, Hatch pulled his cock from Matt's sucking
lips, slapping it's meaty girth, wetly against both sides of his face:
"Don't you think you should thank Fag Basher for raping your faggot vagina
so good?" Hatch taunted, his face a mocking mask of sincerity.

Matt hated himself for it, knew his current weakened state left him
vulnerable and at the mercy of his lifelong bully and tormentor, but he did
it anyway: "Thank you Fag Basher" Matt mumbled, leaning in and giving it a
quick smooch for good measure.

James Hatcher's face lit up as he ruffled Matt's hair appreciatively: "Open
wide baby girl, Fag Basher has one more extra special treat for ya!"

Matt did as he was ordered, wanting nothing more than for this humiliation
to end as soon as possible.

At first, Matt thought that Hatch just wanted another blow job and Matt
began sucking and licking his knob, hoping to get him off as quickly as
possible, but when Hatch's hands locked behind his head and he felt the
head of his cock flex in his oral cavity, it was to late that he realized
his real intent as Hatch's hot acrid piss began spewing into his mouth.

To his credit, Matt did try to pull away from his pissing dong, but Hatch
had other ideas and forced his spouting pecker down his throat, flooding
his esophagus with his rank, pungent urine.

Matt choked and gagged, doing his best to dislodge the spurting phallus
from his mouth, but in the end, all his efforts prove futile and he was
forced to succumb and swallow the tangy, odorous liquid or drown in it.

He didn't know how long it had taken, but it felt like he had drunk a
gallon of his rank, hot piss before he was done. Hatch even made him slurp
up the last couple of dribbles that dangled from his piss slit. He had even
ordered Matt to thank "Fag Basher" for his "tasty treat" before he finally
seemed to lose interest in humiliating him and began scooping up his own
clothes and getting dressed.

Matt followed suit, pulling his clothes on as quickly as possible.

They drove back towards town silently, neither of them speaking a word
until Hatch pulled up in front of his house.

"Get out faggot" Was all Hatch said, never taking his eyes off the road
ahead.

Matt did so, yanking his backpack and his canvas carry case along with him
and had barely shut the passenger side door, when Hatch peeled out, leaving
him standing there staring after him, wondering what the hell had just
happened.


Thanks for reading the continuing adventures in "When Opportunity Knocks".

Just a reminder, I also post this story, as well as others over on my own
site, where I also post related and nonrelated artwork at:
https://devildawgdonnellys.blogspot.com/