My Gay Experience Pt. 05

I knew they were gay, and they asked if they could join us in the steam room. We loaded the limo and another car and headed for a night of fucking.

The following day, I met with the Skyler brothers from Oregon. We went to the gym, did a workout, and returned to the house to discuss the possibility of them transferring. I thought I had this in the bag, but in the very end, they declined my offer and headed back to Oregon. Strange, I thought.

The guys were also disappointed, but for another reason, they were looking forward to a bonding time, a team fuck.

Security told me an Art Kline and his brother Pat wanted to see me. They were basketball players out of Texas. I knew who they were, Art was my age, the second-best high school player this last year behind me, and his brother was going into his junior year at Texas. They were not on my list, but I had time. The guys had a group fuck, so I bowed out to meet these guys.

We sat in the living room, and I asked what was up.

"We drove up from Texas and heard you were recruiting for a team to play at the UW. Before the crash, my brother had a scholarship in Texas, and they had also granted me one for this year, but we know they all disappeared, and we don't have the funds to go without one."

"I am not looking for freshmen," I told him, "And there are other things I am looking at, so the team gels."

"I am aware of that. But you do need a bench, and the other thing I know you are looking for is gay players; that is not a problem for either of us."

"You're gay?" I questioned, looking at both of them.

"We are," Art responded. "But we are also not sure, after having been in town a couple of days and seeing you all out on the town, we would be a good fit. We want to win the Final Four; you guys will never make the tournament."

"Who do you think you are making such a statement," I responded, trying to without my anger from this 18-year-old kid. "Can you make such a ridiculous statement?"

"I would not want to respond with words but actions. We want to challenge you to a game of 4 on 3, your top four, your high school friends, I presume, and we will take you another new guy, Harry, on our team. The first to score 10 points wins. We will wait until your guys stop fucking and make it downstairs. Let's play on the half-court in your driveway."

I went upstairs and told them what Art said. They broke away from their session, showered, changed into their basketball gear, and joined downstairs.

I would like to say we won, but in actuality, Art, Pete, and Harry wiped us up, 10-1. We were embarrassed, to say the least. Seeing I was angry, the others didn't want to hang around me, so they left and went downtown, other wards, to the steam room. I went down to talk to Art and Pete.

"How did you know you would beat us?" I asked

"You guys are so consumed with sex you no longer work out. Brad, you are so torn between your office, the city's problems, your companies, and sex you don't utilize the disciplines which got you where you are today. If three players can beat your best, there is no way Washington makes the tourney. And besides, you had the school hire your high school coach and his assistant. I know you are paying their salaries. You're their boss; they know it and won't question what you say. After all, you pay well, and they don't want to lose their sugar daddy."

"And as for the twins, they once were good, but no one investigated what happened in the last tourney when they went out in the first round. They are gay, as you know, but what they have tried to keep quiet is they have AIDS, a strain with no cure. They are dying. You probably asked them to take a test, as you do with all your interviews, and they would have failed; thus, they left."

"How do you get all this information; everyone here signs a non-disclosure," I spoke.

"You guys talk too loud when you go out; it's unbelievable how much people will spill on social media."

"So, we don't have a chance, you are telling me?"

"No, you have the winning team, just not with their current disciplines. When was the last time you had a real workout with your trainers? Hard to say and be honest. I think you average 3-4 acts of sex every day. No discipline with your bodies. And you also do not use PREP, increasing your chances for disease even though you test."

"What can we do?" I asked, almost pleading for a way back to where I was.

"You need to get back to training. I would have your trainers here or at the UW weight room and basketball court 5 days a week. At least 8 hours a day. Saturday and Sunday are optional. Sunday is your proclaimed Church and Family Day. Sex is for the weekends, but you need to learn moderation. If you were not trying to win an athletic contest, have sex every day, but discipline if for the athletic. Diet, healthy living, discipline, key principles for you and the team."

"Will you accept an offer to play?" I asked.

"No, we both want to see if you can follow through. We will work with you for a month and make a decision at that time. For you, you need to step up and tell them this is what we need to do after being embarrassed on the basketball court; you need to have your office handle the daily routine of your business, you can work after you put in eight hours working out through the week, and then you have the weekend to maintain your business. Do you think you can do it? Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," I said, standing and shaking their hands.

"One more thing, we will take your test to show we are negative; it is a good weekly exercise. I recommend you have your doctor prescribe PREP to you all. Ask him to explain it before you take it."

He took us to our rooms; we said we only needed one and then took a nap. We would meet everyone that evening. I don't think we will be popular at dinner.

When Saturday rolled around, they all looked sex-starved. After breakfast, they went to the beds set up outside their rooms, and it looked like an orgy when we walked back to our rooms to change into our workout clothes. They invited us to join them, but we declined.

That night, they planned to go to the steam room downtown. We declined the invitation, and they headed out.

I knocked on their doors and asked them to come in. They thought I had gone with the others, but I wanted to spend time with them. Art was lying on his side in the bed; Pat was behind him, lifting Art's leg slightly as he slowly grinded his cock into him.

They told me to take a chair and watch. They kissed slowly, sensually, their hands playing with each other's nipples, all the while Pat was working his cock-up Art. They moaned as they played. It was like watching two lovers having an intimate relationship spilling over into their lovemaking. Art shot his load onto a towel they had placed over the sheets, then Pat said, "Oh Fuck, here it comes," as he unloaded into Art.

They got up, showered, and came back to talk with me.

"You guys look like you are so much in love," I remarked to their passionate lovemaking.

"What you saw, and I'm glad you did, is brotherly love. It is not the love you experience when you have sex with whomever at this point in your journey. Pat and I are looking for that special one to spend our lives with. Where sex is not the predominant thing because some couples stay married all their lives and rarely, if ever, have sex. We share a passion for each other, as brothers, and no more. Think about what you saw, what your emotions felt to you, the experience of sharing your life with someone else, and the bed is just a benefit."

"Thank you for opening up and sharing; you have left me with lots to think about," I said, standing and leaving their room.