tagGay MaleThe Football Player's Cocksucker

The Football Player's Cocksucker


It started off with watching the football games. We were encouraged to go because of our school spirit, and boy did I have loads of that, so of course I was going to go.

I noticed him out on the field first. There was a sort of grace to his running that the rest of the players didn't have, something strong and sensual about the way he moved and the way that he played that got my heart pounding. I, of course, needed to go up to him afterward and meet him, tell him how good of a game that he played.

But when he took off his helmet, it was like all time stopped. He was ruggedly handsome, and dastardly cute, and he had the kind of smile that only a Brandon could have. And I was immediately in lust.

Which is a very compromising position to be in, if you're straight.

Or, at least, I was sure that I was straight. I'd always been attracted to only girls before now, but for some reason Brandon just arrested every sensible part of me and made me want to melt myself down into mush around him. I wasn't sure what he'd want to do with the mush, but I would be mush for him. I'd be *anything* for him.

I tried to keep my attraction a secret. I tried to pretend that my school spirit was the same as any other school spirit. I went to the games and cheered, of course, but I didn't cheer *too* hard. I didn't scream "GO NUMBER FORTY-SIX" any louder than I should have. I tried to keep it under wraps, I tried to keep it secret. I wasn't *gay*, I didn't want to be gay. I wouldn't be able to date girls if I were gay.

I tried to keep it under wraps, but one evening everything got away from me.

Our football team had just won, and all the players had slammed themselves up against each other in a huge pile then screamed "PARTY AT THE SIGMAS" from the middle of the football field, and I definitely wanted to go. Sure, it was a frat party, which was the kind of crowd I didn't really run in, but for Brandon I would be there. It wasn't like he knew me or anything. I just wanted to be there for support. Mostly.

I wasn't very popular-I wasn't *unpopular*, either, but my two best friends and I kind of kept to ourselves. We weren't the nerds or the geeks or the gamer bros or anything like that. We were just us. We had found the guys we were good with, and we kept it at that. We studied together, we played Halo together, and tonight we were going to a frat party together.

Even outside the Sigma house it was obvious that the building was packed. We had to weave our way past the crowd out front and into the living room in the front. Right next to the front door was a giant tub full of some unidentifiable alcoholic punch, and the three of us filled up red solo cups of the stuff.

"Blech!" Michael said, making a face.

"Yeah, no kidding," Dwayne added. "There's got to be beers around here somewhere."

I could tolerate the rank punch pretty well, so I wasn't interested in beers, but before I could say so they'd both vanished into the throng of people. "Hey guys?" I called out and looked around. "Hey gu-oh, whatever." I groaned and rubbed the bridge of my nose before pushing my way through the crowd. People mulled about the house in a massive wall-to-wall solid block of human bodies. I had to turn myself sideways and wiggle through if I wanted to get anywhere, for once thankful that I had a tiny little body. Normally I wasn't thankful for that; what guy liked having a tiny little body, anyways? But it made me incredibly maneuverable, and I could wiggle into a great number of unusual places that most people couldn't.

Somehow I'd managed to wriggle myself into the kitchen, and I could see glass double doors that led out the back like they were the gates of heaven. I threw myself over the threshold where there were significantly fewer people and a lot more fresh air.

I took a deep breath, basking in the early September air. The Sigma house was right up the hill from the lake, and I could have sworn I could smell it all the way up here. I stepped out of the group of people standing right by the door and froze.

There was a hot tub out here on the back porch. And Brandon was in it.


I wasn't sure how long I stood there and stared, cup halfway up to my lips. He was well-muscled, but lean, like a jungle cat, and he turned and talked with his friends with the same kind of grace that he had out on the playing field. Sure, he had other friends who were also muscled and shirtless, but there was something utterly *pristine* about him, something so intoxicating that I couldn't keep my eyes away. I had no idea that someone could just *exist* with that kind of elegance.

Thankfully it took a while for anyone, either in the hot tub or out, to notice my staring, so I got a nice, good eyeful of everything that I couldn't have.

"Hey," Brandon suddenly said, leaning over the edge of the tub. "You wanna join?"

"Do I-" I stammered, my eyes widening, then pointed at myself.

He nodded. "You look like you wanna come in," he said.

"Oh, I'd... never been in a hot tub." I was all flustered. I had to play it cool, or else he would think that I was a total weirdo. "I don't have a swimsuit," I said.

Brandon grinned. "Neither do we."

I could feel my face turn hot and red. Did anyone see that? God, I hoped not.

I tried to not think of Brandon without a swimsuit. It didn't work.

I fidgeted, trying to not show my enthusiasm to see Brandon naked. I couldn't think of anything more humiliating than someone learning about my little crush, except for *Brandon* to know abut my little crush.

"We're not *naked*, if that's what you're thinking!" Brandon said, laughing, "You pervert!"

A couple of his friends laughed, and for a brief second I felt self-conscious, until I realized that they were just joking around, especially as one of them launched into a spiel about how *Jeremy* was the biggest pervert, always trying to sneak into the bathroom when people are trying to pee.

"Hey, I just want to take a shower!" Jeremy said, trying to defend himself.

"Nah," Brandon said to me, "just strip down to your underoos."

"O-okay." I put my cup on the little table next to the hot tub and slowly took my clothes off. I hoped to god that none of my friends would find me like this. *Oh, yeah, I spent my evening hanging out mostly naked with a bunch of college footballers in a hot tub.* That would go over well. It would go off even better if I pointed out that they were hunky at the same time. And that I'd had more than one wet dream about one in particular.

Well, there were so many ways this could go wrong, wasn't there?

After stripping to my boxer-briefs I slid into the tub, squished between Brandon and Jeremy, once again thankful that I was scrawny. It wasn't every day that you could get in the same water as a bunch of hot football players.

I'm straight, I reminded myself. Being in a hot tub didn't make me any less straight. Except for my one exception, of course.

The hot water engulfed my body, and I let out a soft little sigh. "Oh," I sighed, and let myself sink down until just my head was above the surface. I could feel the hot water dig into all my muscles, prodding at the ones that were particular tight. "This feels nice."

"Doesn't it?" Brandon asked, slinging an arm over my shoulders. My breath caught in my throat, feeling his hard chest against mine, and I felt my cock stir in response. I drew my legs up to my chest. No, no, no! I couldn't get hard here! I glanced over at Brandon's lap. His arm was still around me as he talked to all his other friends. Why was his arm still around me? That was weird. He wouldn't have forgotten that he put it there, would he? He was practically cuddling me, and I had to try hard to not lean into him. They were all talking about something completely unrelated but I just couldn't get my mouth working enough to contribute, so I just stared at the water trying to calm myself down. So long as he held me so close there was no way I was going to get anything remotely coherent out.

I couldn't resist a glance into his lap, where his cock was. I wondered how big it was, if it was super veiny, how thick it was-

My cock stiffened even harder at the thought, and I swallowed and stared at my knees.

"Hey, you okay, kid?" Jeremy asked.

"Oh, yeah," I said, "just enjoying the water."

"So, you've never been in a hot tub before," Brandon said.

"No." My mouth felt like mush.

"Then you've never had beer in a hot tub!" He grabbed my drink off the table and handed it to me. "Drink up!"

Yes, alcohol. Alcohol would be good. Social lubricant, and it makes dicks floppy. Why didn't I think of that?

Conscious of Brandon's arm no longer around me, I took my cup from him and drank up.

"CHUG CHUG CHUG," everyone yelled as I drank, and I gulped it all down quickly, ignoring the burn of alcohol as it went down my throat. I felt like I was in some stupid college movie.

Everyone shouted as I finished off my drink, and they pointed to the pile of crumpled-up solo cups that were near the trashcan next to the door. I crumpled up my cup and chucked it. It landed near the top. I got another round of yells and whoops for my aim.

"Jeremy's turn!" Brandon yelled, and Jeremy grabbed his own drink. One by one around the hot tub everyone had their chance in the drinking limelight while the rest of us screamed CHUG CHUG CHUG. The alcohol started to hit me by the time it was Brandon's turn, and I was practically crawling in his lap, my entire buzzing with the effect of the booze, screaming CHUG CHUG CHUG! Brandon crushed his cup and threw it out of the tub then stood up abruptly, dumping me back into the water. His underwear was just clinging to his hips, and I could see a nice solid full outline of his cock hanging in his pants. It snaked off to the side like Satan's devious schlong. I swallowed hungrily.

"Into the lake!" he shouted and pointed down the hill. The lake was swathed in the evening darkness. Everyone else stood up and hopped out and ran towards the lake. Quite a few others who were sitting around the porch joined them, amassing a large group of drunk frat boys and football players barreling down the slick hill towards the lake. I hesitated; did that include me as well? But I figured they didn't *not* include me, so I hopped out as well and followed them. Their hollers and screams echoed across the water. My cock still throbbed with excitement and bounced along with my running, but in the darkness behind the house no one noticed.

The lake was freezing cold, completely dousing any chance an erection had to exist. I gasped as I hit the water and stumbled. I prepared to plummet face-first into the freezing water, but something warm caught me before I totally fell under. I panted as I scrambled for a footing on the smooth lake stones underwater. The cold penetrating my body in the same way that the heat did, and it was painful and pleasurable in a whole different way.

"You okay, man?" Brandon asked loudly, his arms on my shoulders. He was the one who caught me.

"Ah, yeh," I said, breathless, my lungs still fighting to breathe in the cool, humid air. Or breathe in response to Brandon's touch. Probably both.

"Doesn't this feel amazing!" he yelled in my face, joining the cacophony of splashes around us from everyone else.

"Yeah!" I yelled back through the haze of drunkenness.

He wrapped an arm over my shoulders again and jumped a couple times, whooping. His teammates jumped around in the water and whooped back.

"Tiny made it in the lake!" he shouted. I groaned at being called "Tiny".

"Tiny made it in the lake!" the other guys yelled back.

Brandon dropped me. "Race ya to the other side!" he shouted, and immediately the whole lot of them swam off. I floundered for a second, my fee still uncertain on the rocks, before going after them. I wasn't the strongest swimmer, but I quickly proved I wasn't the weakest swimmer either. After a weak start I hit the opposite shore before several of the other swimmers.

I kept myself in the water, not ready to go out into the cool air. It took me a second to notice that I had reached the shore a little bit away from everyone else.

"Shoot," I muttered, but I wasn't too put out. I could see their bodies silhouetted against the light from the lampposts as they climbed out of the water. I narrowed my eyes. Something looked odd. No, they couldn't be-

"You're sixth place, Tiny."

I jumped and spun around. Brandon was standing there.

And he was naked.

"Jesus," I breathed, my eyes widening.

Everyone else was naked. They were skinny dipping. Even in the poor light I could see Brandon's *everything*.

I sank back down into the water because I clearly wasn't naked.

I shivered as I stared up at him. He stared back down at me. Suddenly everything felt eerily quiet.

"Oh?" I stammered. My brain was blank. What did he say? I didn't want to get out of the water. I didn't want to show off my rapidly stiffening cock which was successfully winning against the frigid water.

Brandon noticed me staring, and flexed his biceps. "Like what you see?" he asked and posed.

"I-I-" I stammered. If I had to die now I would die happy knowing that this god was the last thing I ever saw.

I licked my lips. His cock was big and heavy against his thigh, and I was sure it'd get even bigger and heavier when it was aroused, solid and stiff and-

"Last one back drinks the spit jar!" Brandon suddenly shouted, calling out to his group of buddies a ways away, then leaped over me back into the water. He gave me a good eyeful as he did so, and I wanted to faint in happiness. "C'mon, Tiny!" he hissed, waving me on. I took off after him. I wasn't actually a hundred percent sure what he had just said, but I figured it was in my best interest to follow him.

The house was quieter when we got back. I didn't know how long we'd been out on the lake. It didn't *seem* that long, but it could have been hours for all I was thinking at that point. I couldn't help my heart from sinking a little bit as he pulled his underwear back on, but him lifting his leg did give me a pretty good look at his balls hanging between his legs. Balls that I wanted on-

No, what! What on earth was I thinking! I was straight, not...

I shook my head. I'd been indulging too much in Brandon this entire evening. I needed to calm the fuck down.

The lot of us climbed the hill on the way up to the frat house, grabbing crumpled plastic cups as we went. We tossed them onto the sad little pile next to the trash can on the back porch. The trash can itself was so overflowing with cups and beer bottles that nothing else would fit. No one seemed to care, just high-fived each other for good community service.

From what I could see in through the back door most everyone had gone, except for the people who actually lived here. I grabbed my clothes near the hot tub and pulled my pants back on, but I was still dripping too much with lake water to consider putting my shirt back on. I wondered where my friends had gone, but it looked as though they had left with the majority of the party. I glanced out one of the front windows. The Delta Chi house down the street was lit up now than it was before; I guess the party had just moved instead of disbanded, and Michael and Dwayne had probably gone with it. I shrugged. That was okay; it wasn't like I hadn't abandoned them first.

"Hey," Brandon said, grabbing me as I came down the stairs after doing one more sweep of the house. "Wanna watch Micah drink the spit jar?"

I really actually didn't want Micah to drink the spit jar. "Yeah!" I said instead, and Brandon handed me another beer and dragged me to the living room where Micah was drinking out of the spit jar. Briefly Brandon's arm was around my shoulders again.

After I was done watching the gross festivities, I turned to look for Brandon again, but he wasn't around. It was weird; I'd been around him for almost the entire evening but now he was gone. I rolled my eyes. *Everyone* was just leaving me this evening, huh?

I checked my watch. It was getting pretty late, so I should be heading home anyways. My dorm wasn't too far of a hike, but I didn't want to fall asleep halfway there. Well, the least I could do was say goodbye to the guy who'd been keeping me company.

I eventually found him alone on the back porch, pulling the hot tub cover on.

"Hey," he said, waving me over, "give me a hand."

I grabbed the other side, and between the two of us we wrestled the cover back on. Brandon was still shirtless, and I got to see everything move, like a well-oiled machine. I tried to not look at him, and helping out was harder than I expected because none of my blood was in my arms where it was supposed to be. I wondered how he looked under his clothes while he was playing football? Muscles contracting, flexing, showing off his perfect physique...

Brandon pulled himself up onto the edge of the hot tub cover.

"You've been staring at me all evening, haven't you," he said, and took a sip from the beer can he had laying aside.

"Wh-what?" I said, still trying-and clearly failing-to be casual. He had *noticed*? I knew I wasn't exactly being subtle or anything, but I was hoping that he'd be too drunk to notice.

"Yeah. You do it at games, too. Afterwards I'll look up into the stands and you'll be staring right at me."

I could feel my face turn bright red. It did seem like he had stared back a couple of times after games, but I thought I was just seeing what I wanted to see, not that he was actually *staring* at me.

"You a fag?" he asked.

"N-no!" I sputtered. A little bit of staring didn't mean *that*!

"I bet you are." Brandon put his hand on his knee and slowly drifted it upwards. I couldn't help but stare. I tried to not stare, I didn't want him to call me that again, but-oh god, it looked so delicious.

"You liked that little display I gave you?" he asked.

Little display? Oh god, did he mean down at the lake? He did that on purpose? I brimmed with annoyance, anger, but also arousal. He noticed me staring-and he indulged in it a little? Why would he do that?

Suddenly he was unzipping his pants. I leaned away in surprise, but then he pulled out his cock. "You know, sometimes pants get so tight..." he said. He ran his hands up and down his shaft, stroking it lightly. I found my own pants getting tight in response. His cock was hardening, and he stared at me as he stroked it. The head swelled slowly, pointing up towards the night sky. "Surely you wouldn't know what to do in this situation, would you, faggot?"

"N-no, I'm not..." I sputtered, still staring. He was almost completely hard, his cock sticking up straight out of his groin, with a bit of fluffy pubic hair curling over the top of his underwear.

"But you can't expect me to be able to fit all this back in my pants, do you? That's ridiculous..." He grinned slowly at me, some devious thing tarnishing the beauty of his face. "Why don't you lick it for me?"

I made a weird, choking noise. Lick it? Like put it in my mouth?

"Just one little lick, and I'm sure that would make it go down."

I guessed one little lick wouldn't hurt...

He was sitting on the edge of the hot tub cover, which was high enough that I didn't even have to kneel down in front of him. I stood between his legs, and his big proud cock stared up at me. He was still stroking the shaft, pointing it directly at my face.

"C'mon, just one little lick," he egged me on.

I don't know if it was the alcohol or the lust, but I bent my head and licked it.

It was right underneath the head of his shaft, most of the way up to his slit. It was musky, and tasted a little bit like the lake. Brandon let out a delicious little hiss at the touch of my tongue on his cock, and that sent a pulse throughout my entire body.

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