Hallowiener Pt. 05

It had been weeks since my late-night escapade with Santa and Frosty and the year had started in its normal boring fashion. Exam revision was well underway, and coursework was needing to be finished, but in truth, there was only one thing on my mind. From the first second Mr Robert's cock touched my lips I had a feeling. The outfit Becca made me wear for Mr Hamilton and how he bent me over his desk still sends shivers down my spine. Finally, being double-teamed by Mr Marshall Jr. & Sr., I couldn't believe what I was saying to myself, but I loved every second.

Being fucked by all these men was something I could never imagine myself doing, and in truth, I was almost repulsed by it. "I'm straight," I said to myself, but if that were true, why did I enjoy it so much? I dreamt about it. I would see men on the street and wonder what it would be like if they just took me right there on the concrete paving. I missed the taste of cum and the feel of a hard cock driving deep inside me. It may have all started as a little misunderstanding, but it had grown to something far stronger. I was craving it now, pining for it. But why? Then, it hit me.

The one over-riding factor in all these situations was, need, not mine, but theirs. All these men needed something. And for one reason or another. Whether it was because of their families, or their social standing, each of these men found themselves in need of help, and the only person willing to help was me. Mr Roberts had been separated from his wife for years, you can't blame him for taking advantage of a sexy little nurse sprawled over his couch. Mr Hamilton was stuck in a position of power and guidance if it got out that he was gay and cruised bars looking for action it could be the end of his career. A man like that needs some release, surely? And the Marshall's, well they've given so much to the community it's only fitting that the community should give something back to them, I don't have much to offer, but at that moment I had what they needed.

"You just can't wait to get stuffed I bet." A familiar voice shook me from my thoughts as I ambled down the school driveway. "Season's about to start, me and guys can't wait to get a turn with you."

I froze on the spot trying to make sense of what I was hearing, I turned to face the strong broad chest of Drake Malloy. "Umm hi." My awkwardness must have been laughable, but I knew it was only a matter of time until the rest of the school found out. "Listen, it was just a bit of fun, no one needs to know."

"Fun? Shit, it's gonna be hella fun this season Danny. As soon as I saw that you'd signed up for the season, all I could think was 'He's got bottom written all over him!"

I felt my cheeks flush red, I must have looked a gibbering mess. "Drake, it's not what you think," I had no idea how he found out, but I was guessing Becky had something to do with it. "It was just a couple of times. If you think about it, I was really offering a service, help. Making people feel good and giving them something they couldn't find elsewhere, you know? Hey, maybe there's something you need? Perhaps we could go somewhere, and I'll give it to you? Just please don't tell the guys." I would've blown him right there in the driveway if he'd promise to keep my secret.

"Oh, no need for a pre-season warm-up, but the guys already know. They're chomping at the bit to get a piece of you." Drake swung his bag onto his shoulder and stared down at me. My eyes dropped to the floor, resigned to the thought of having twenty-six, muscular and horny nineteen-year-olds pass me around all season.

I let my eyes settle on Drake's sizeable crotch and pictured him in all his naked glory. I'd seen him plenty of times, standing under the water of the gym showers, striking a pose, much like he currently was. Suddenly the thought of getting pounded by him, and the rest of the team, wasn't sounding so bad. It's still a sort of service right? Morale officer or something?

"Hey, think of it this way, you'll be pivotal to the team." I hauled my gaze off Drake's crotch and stared glassy-eyed up at him. "This season's gonna be tough. The guys are gonna be tested. You're gonna be needed, they'll need some entertainment to keep their spirits up."

Drake was right, I was going to be crucial. So, what if the team knew my secret, they were more important. "You're right Drake," I said feeling emboldened, "Tell the guys that anything they need they can have. I've only done two at a time once, but I'm willing to do it if they want. Just tell them to go easy on me, I'm still learning."

"Umm, sure dude." Drake looked at me strangely. He turned to walk away and shouted back over his shoulder laughing, "but don't get all dramatic, we're only talking about fantasy football, not cage-fighting."

'Oh shit!' I thought to myself. I stood stock-still, staring aimlessly as I came to terms with the last few minutes. Drake had been talking about the new season of fantasy football and here I was about to drop to my knees in public. 'What a dick!' I screamed under my breath, "Yeah, but what a dick?" I said with a sneaky smile picturing the school showers again.

I was still revelling in the thought of being used by the team all season when I was startled by the loud horn of a passing truck. It pulled up alongside the curb and I immediately knew who it was.

The door of the truck swung open, "Hey there kid, need a lift?" Mr Roberts said with a big broad smile. I had to focus on his smile, if I didn't, I might have fainted on the spot. He was clearly on his way home from work, and like every day, he had stripped his shirt off. His big bristling chest flexed menacingly as he recoiled from the door back to his upright position. Facing me, I could see his abs clearly, daubed in thick hair. He was a real solid man. My eyes drifted down over his dusty jeans and settled on his large crotch area. "So, what'll it be Danny? You want me to give you a ride?"

"Yes, oh god yes." I shot back, a little too eagerly.

"Well get in then." Mr Roberts said laughing.

I climbed up into the cab a little embarrassed from my outburst and settled in for the short journey to my house.

I tried to spark up a conversation several times, but I couldn't do anything but mumble and stutter.

"That Drake's a big guy, isn't he?" Mr Roberts asked laughing at my awkward attempts at speaking.

"Oh, you have no idea." I said, "Not as big as you." I added, my mind wandered between snapshots of Drake in the gym showers, and getting face fucked on that couch.

"How's Tommy?" I asked, trying my best to change the topic.

"He's good, enjoyed himself at his Mother's. He's coming back tonight." The conversation fell silent again, which I was glad about considering my mind was far too busy comparing the size of Drake to Mr Roberts and trying to imagine what it would be like to be sandwiched between the two.

"That's why I stopped, why don't you come back with me, you can sleepover. I'll order pizza, it'll be a nice surprise for Tom when he gets home."

It did sound nice. It would be good to spend some time with Tommy, and let's face it, I didn't mind spending time around Mr Roberts right now either. "Sure Sir, that sounds like fun."

"Then it's settled. I'll call your Dad when we get home and tell him you're staying with me, you know, with Tom," Mr Roberts turned to me with a big smile.

It didn't take long to reach the Roberts' household. Mr Roberts dialled my Dad's number as he trudged up the stairs, "Danny, the pizza menu is the kitchen top drawer, choose whatever you like."

I could hear Mr Roberts speaking to my Dad upstairs while I looked through the menu. I made my way upstairs to Tommy's room and threw my bag in the corner and kicked off my shoes. I turned to close the door and caught Mr Robert's in the doorway of the bathroom. "Hey Chuck, it's been a busy week, I need this. You can trust me, I'll look after your boy." He said to the phone, looking me dead in the eye, he winked and closed the bathroom door.

The distant hum of the shower sped up and I assumed Mr Roberts was grabbing a shower before dinner. Yeah, he probably needed to wash the dirt of the day off his big, muscular body. "God, stop!" I thought to myself, "maybe I should offer to wash his back?" I giggled.

I fired up the Playstation and pulled out Tommy and mine's favourite game. I sat crossed-legged on the floor and lost myself in the colourful pixels. I lost track of how long I was playing when a voice broke my concentration. "So, what's it gonna be? You made up your mind yet kid?"

"Meat..." Was the only word I could utter as I rolled on to my back to greet the visitor. The words stuck in my throat when I caught sight of Him. Standing in the doorway was Mr Roberts, not a surprise as it was his house and we were the only people there, but I didn't expect him to be standing there in nothing more than a tight pair of briefs, whilst drying his hair with a towel. My view from my back afforded me a rather unique angle of Mr Roberts' beautiful frame. From his thickset legs, up to his bulging crotch, across his taut abs attached to his flexing pectoral muscles; the man was godly.

"Careful," he said smiling down at me, "You're gonna die." He nodded to the screen, where my character was running straight off a cliff into the sea.

"Oh," I said giggling, all too aware of how highly pitched my voice was becoming, "it's ok, I'm bored of it now anyways." Truth be told, Tommy and I would normally play that game all night, but for some reason, my mind wasn't concerned with the Playstation anymore.

"Sure, you are," Mr Roberts said sarcastically as he turned, "in that case, how about you get some plates ready and I'll go order your meat?"

"Of course," I said jumping up and following Mr Roberts' out on to the landing.

"You don't mind me dressed like this do you?" Mr Robert's said spinning around and tossing his towel through the open bathroom door. "It's just after a tough, hard, long week, I need to let my skin breathe."

"N...N...No." I stammered, trying not to stare too intently. "It's your house, d...do what you want."

"Do what I want? I might just take you up on that boy."

Mr Roberts' walked to the sitting room dialling the pizza place as he went and told me to grab a couple of beers from the fridge. When I returned, he was just finishing off his call, perched on the end of the couch, the same couch I had been lying on that fateful night. He tossed the phone to the vacant seat sitting opposite the couch and turned to face me. Pulling one foot up to the sofa, he turned to me and I leant forward handing in the beer and sat down at the other end. I just looked up at him as he cracked open the beer and chugged it down his body still glistening from the shower water, his muscles twitched as he moved, like a coiled viper ready to strike. My eyes travelled, not by any conscious thought, more like a willingness to explore. Without prompting, my gaze settled on his throbbing bulge, his tight briefs did little to disguise his thick cock as it stretched down the side of his left thigh. The soft cotton strained against its size pulling the fabric up away from his leg. If it had been half an inch closer to the hem, I would have had a full view of his cockhead.

"So, what do you want to watch?" The man said, "there's a footy match starting in about 10 minutes if you wanna watch it." He chugged his beer again, this time his eyes locked on to mine, I tried with all my might, but I couldn't help, my eyes dropped back to his crotch for a quick second. I hoped he hadn't noticed, but how could he not have, he must have seen me do it.

"Sure," I muttered under my breath quietly, trying not to look on his crotch again, "that could be good, who's playing?" I whispered again

"I'm not sure." He said draining the last of his beer and smiling out of the corner of his mouth. He slid off the arm of the couch and sat beside me. "Hey how about you go and get me another beer. Or maybe you don't want yours?"

"I do but I didn't know if it was for me, my dad doesn't let me drink," I said looking down at the cold unopened can.

"Kid you're not with your Dad right now, you're with me, and I can do whatever I want, remember?. Just don't drink too much, and don't tell your father." Mr Roberts added with another wink.

We sat there in relative silence as the football match played out the first half. Mr Roberts had me fetch him another two beers and by the time the second half kicked off he was on his fourth. Me, on the other hand, sat there still sipping my first. Mr Roberts teased me and called me a lightweight. As the second half ended, he finished his seventh beer and turned to me.

"Hey, had any thoughts about what you and Tom are going to get up to when he gets home tomorrow?" He said.

I stopped sipping my second beer and looked over at him confused. "Tomorrow? You said he was going to be home tonight."

"Oh, don't be silly, I spoke to him this afternoon. It sounded like he was having such a good time, I suggested that he stay. You must have misheard me." Mr Roberts said rather matter-of-factly.

"No- But," I couldn't string two words together.

"Never mind that now, you're here, and I've had too much drink to drive you home, so you're just going to have to stay." He patted my leg and gave my thigh a gentle squeeze.

"Ok," I said quietly, thinking back to what Mr Roberts had said in the truck.

"Tell you what, how about we go upstairs." He said with a kind smile. I was caught off guard by this suggestion but nodded hesitantly.

He finished his beer and stood up. "Come on, I've got an idea I reckon you'll enjoy." Without really thinking, I jumped to my feet and scurried after him. My mind raced, full of all the possible outcomes to his vague proposal.

Mr Roberts led me up the stairs and ushered me into Tommy's room. "Sit." He ordered, fumbling with the Playstation. The screen flickered and beamed into life showing a rather familiar emblem on the screen. "You and Tom play this all the time, right? You shouldn't have a problem beating an old-timer like me, now would you?"

"No. I guess not." I didn't answer him straight away, I was far too interested in the sight of Mr Roberts bending and moving in front of me as he set up the console.

"You 'guess not'? Well, we'll have to put that to the test, then won't we?" He turned to face me, his prize package pushed out suggestively in my direction. I just nodded.

I sat down on the floor in front of the TV and he handed me a controller. Taking his seat on the corner of the bed, his package was now at eye level, a temptation I was finding more and more difficult to resist. The game started and for a few minutes he held up well. Then Cristiano Ronaldo hit a screamer into the top corner and the flood gates opened. I was 3-0 up by the half-time whistle, and when the second half kicked off, I rattled up two more goals in quick succession. Full of confidence, I began to show-off and played the ball in triangles around Mr Roberts' players.

"You up for something a little more fun?" Mr Roberts paused the game and cracked open the beer he brought with him.

"Sure," I said rather too cockily. "Anything, not even the mighty Mr Roberts could come back from 5-0," I added looking him up and down rather giddy at my own success.

"Anything? Ok, from this moment on, every goal scored, the conceding player has to take something off." He leant back on one arm, swigging his beer down with the other. In the process, he pushed his crotch forward, pulling the soft cotton taut.

"I looked up from his bulge, but you..." I pointed weakly at his briefs.

"Yeah, I know, I have one piece of clothing on, that would make it 6-0, and leave me naked in the process." He paused, I could feel him looking at me, I could sense his smile even though my gaze was firmly attached to the screen. "On the other hand, you have, one, two, your trousers, two socks, and I guess it's safe to assume you have some pants on? That makes six pieces of clothing. If I get you naked, that would make it 5-6 in my favour. Sound fair to you?"

I heard very little of what he had to say, as soon as he'd said 'If I get you naked', my mind had lost all semblance of composure. My cock had begun to react. The more I tried to calm down, the more it straightened. It wasn't hard to hide my modest appendage, but the last thing I wanted was Mr Roberts to think I was getting hard at the thought of him naked. No words came out, I just sat staring at the screen, and nodded.

"Great, let's get it on." He said, springing to life, un-pausing the game and catching me by surprise. He caught my midfield napping, scooped up the ball, and with a deft cross, Bayern had pulled one back. "Get that sock off young man." He jubilantly called out, pointing at my foot. To say I was in shock was an understatement, but I resigned myself to not keeping a clean-sheet and pulled my left sock off my toes. The match kicked off again, and less than a minute later, I was taking the right one off also. "Not so cocky now are you." Came the teasing voice over my shoulder.

Again, the ball found itself into the net, the only problem was it was behind my keeper. Without being told, I peeled my jumper off over my head and picked up the controller once more. I took a deep breath and I kicked off. Switching from the right flank and over to the left, I weaved the ball around Mr Roberts' players like they were standing still. I took the shot and it crashed off the crossbar, thanks to a good save by the Goalie, and out for a corner. The ball swung in from the right and my centre-back got his head to it, but I found the keepers gloves. Nevertheless, I'd be seeing Mr Roberts naked in no time. At least, that's what I thought before he kicked upfield to his midfield maestro, he darted one way, then the other, he was almost playing with me. Two of my players got in a mix-up and he was one-on-one with the keeper; 5-4.

I chose to take off my t-shirt, it was warm enough, and I was still sporting more wood than I'd like Mr Roberts to be aware of, the image of him naked, that big schlong dangling between those meaty thighs was too much. "Get 'em off kid." Was all I heard as the bright yellow letters, G. O. A. L., covered the screen again, and the score was suddenly 5-5. I'd been caught out. Not only that, I'd been caught out imagining Mr Roberts naked... again. Reluctantly, I stood, facing away from Mr Roberts and pulled my trousers down. With a quick rearrangement of my boxers, I sat back down happy in the idea that my boner wasn't obvious. 'Less than a minute to go, just keep it together.' I thought to myself. And believe me, I tried.

All his players pushed forward, hassling me at every step, I passed and passed it out of their reach until I had no other option than to try and hold it by the corner flag. That was a mistake. Double-teamed, I soon lost out and Mr Roberts deftly worked the ball across the box, the shot came in, but my keeper made the stop. For the briefest of moments, I was ecstatic, sure we'd drawn the match, and I missed out on seeing Mr Roberts naked, but at least I'd managed to keep my own embarrassment to a minimum. I was just about to let out a big sigh of relief when my Goalkeeper fumbled the ball into the path of Mr Roberts onrushing striker.

His player calmly stepped around my prostrate keeper and everything stopped. In fact, everything did stop. With 5 seconds left on the clock, the game was paused.

"I should have probably let you into a little secret. Tom and me, we play this couple of nights a week, we have done going back 4 or 5 versions now. I guess it's stripping time." Mr Roberts said, finishing in an almost whispered tone. "Unless you want me to change the forfeit?"

The words hung in the air. His little pixelated goal scorer was poised on the screen to nail my coffin shut and embarrass me thoroughly, but was he really giving me a way out? Should I risk it?