The Super Jock Sluts Ch. 02

Mason pulled back just a bit, so that the tip would rest in his mouth and he could coat his tongue in cum, savoring the sweet honey-like taste which had just light hints of salt within it all. Mason fucking loved it and didn't stop the vigrous suction, until Sam was desperately trying to push him off as his nuts were aching from being sucked dry.

Mason lazingly pulled off with a wet, slobbery POP and licked the leftover trances of cum from Sam's softening shaft, until it was spit-shined.

He happily grinned at Sam--who looked exhausted--and felt invigorated, assuming that this batch of rich protein would give him four hours of much needed energy until he needed to look elsewhere for more.

Standing up, he stretched his arm out to his tired-looking bro, "Come on dude, we gotta make it back to class, before we're both fucked."

Sam barely heard him, almost on the verge of falling asleep right there in the musky-smelling stall--actually the entire bathroom smelled of musk and cum, it was intoxicating and clouded Sam's head. But he was able to push through and muttered out a reply.

"Ok bro...let's go." He grabbed onto Mason's hand and without a grunt, Mason pulled him to his feet, Sam feeling a little unsure that he could make it through the end of the day.

Mason noticed and, doing some quick thinking, rushed into the hallway and to the closest vending machine--the glowing glass fridge was filled from top to bottom with bottles of Brotein.

Mason pushed a button and the machine dispensed a bottle of the white stuff, grabbing it quickly and making his way back to the bathroom, where he saw Sam leaning against the sink counters--eyes half closed and head slumped over--but Mason knew what would get Sam back on his feet in no time.

It only took a moment for Sam to feel like he had drunk four shots of espresso, the Brotein instantly hitting the spot like some kind of intense drug, which was probably why it was so popular among young men and became the sponsored drink of the Crimson Cocks--Millennium City University's championship winning football team. Even Brad Knight took part in a couple of photoshoots for the sports drink, while wearing only a tiny jockstrap--Mason shamelessly jerked off to the limited edition Brotein poster several times.

Once Sam finished the entire bottle, the two teenagers were off down the hallway to Mr. Cross's room, hoping to make it there before the end of first period, which would end in twenty minutes.

The only problem was getting into Cross's classroom which had two doors; one opening to the front of the room and the other opening to the back. Of course the two took the second door, hoping that the door wouldn't squeak and make too much noise for the sharp-eared Cross to notice.

Sam went first, crouched down as low as possible and softly opened the door with minimal squeaks. Mason followed close behind, thankful to Sam that he grabbed two spots in the back of the classroom earlier, when he noticed that Mason wasn't going to be to class on time.

Sam slid smoothly into the first spot, while Mason hesitated looking to his right and stretching his head to see if Mr. Cross was distracted or not.

The man in question was handsome to say the least, but Mason wouldn't get distracted by his good looks, because the person underneath was a barking, antagonistic man who seemed to think anyone under the age of 35 was below him in all aspects.

Mason was confused on why a man who hated the students around him would be working as a private school teacher, although maybe Mr. Cross got rejected from a job working for a prestigious university or maybe someone realized that he was the biggest, sharp-jawed douchebag on the planet and canned his ass. Mason hoped it was the latter.

Mr. Gordon Cross stood at 6'6", dressed in a black dress coat with a tight plain dress shirt, equally tight beige khaki slacks, and black leather dress shoes; to complete the ensemble was a pair of black framed circle glasses with sterling blue eyes behind the glass. Cross had his raven black hair combed back, showing that he had a widow's peak although occasionally in one of his thundering screaming fits, a strand would come loose and hang down forcing him to push it back into place. He had fair skin and kept his face clean-shaven, it was very rare to see a five o'clock shadow across Mr. Cross's face.

Mason knew that while he was sharp-tongued, he could perfectly back up his own words with the carefully sculpted muscles barely hiding underneath his clothes, which seemed strange for the conservative man.

Thankfully, Cross was seated behind his desk reading through a book that Mason didn't care about, but instead wordlessly told the teen that his teacher wouldn't notice a thing...unfortunately he was wrong.

The second Mason slid into the empty chair next to Sam's--letting out a deep sigh of relief--he jumped out of the chair with the loud roar of Mr. Cross's barely laced annoyance.

"MR. RHOADES!" Everyone turned to look at the defeated teen, some were snickering and waiting for Mason to be punished, while others looked on with pity.

Mason internally sighed, his hopes dashed by Mr. Cross's inhuman ability to catch his schemes.

"Seems you're late again to my class again," Mr. Cross rose from his chair, walking out from behind the long metal desk and sauntered to the back of the classroom towards his prey. "What do you have to say for yourself Mr. Rhoades?"

Mason decided to try the trusted and true, "Uh sorry Mr. C, got stuck in traffic on the way over."

Mr. Cross hated the nickname, visibly prickling with anger as his entire body went stiff, but kept composure and grinned evilly, leaning down and close to reply to Mason, "Heard that one before Mr. Rhoades and it won't work again, now tell me the tru--"

Surprisingly, Mr. Cross paused as his eyes honed in on something splattered against the corners of Mason's mouth; casually using a finger to wipe the leftover residue from the noisy blowjob in the bathroom off of Mason's mouth.

Cross sampled the cum off of his finger, which caused an immediate and stiff reaction in the crotch area that the older man shot back up quickly, hoping that no one would notice. Mason was too scared to realize the embarrassing event, due to his interest being focused on what Mr. Cross would do next, but unfortunately Sam did notice and took a mental screenshot of the throbbing fat tube of cockmeat across the teacher's waist.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Cross continued on with the public flambeing of his late student, "Since this is your fourth time being late to my class and causing a disturbance for the other eager students wanting a good education that their wealthy parents paid for, I think this warrants a week's worth of detention."

Mason groaned, although he thought he did it mentally, but isn't the entire classroom--Mr. Cross included--heard it.

Cross's thick black eyebrow rose, "I guess you want to make that two week's worth of detention and a bonus punishment of a grueling parent-teacher conference this afternoon?"

Mason scrambled and pleaded with the sadistic bastard, "No, no Mr. Cross! I'm sorry--it's just been a long week and I really don't want to anger my dad, I-I'll take the week-long detention just please don't call my dad...sir?"

Although Mason was inept at convincing Mr. Cross that had a valid reason for being late, he did know the right buttons to push to get out of being punished. Mr. Cross liked seeing the cocky jock submit to his authority over him and decided to relent at hearing the seemingly convincing "sir" from Mason. It also seemed that hearing that magic word, made his fat cock swell with blood even more.

"Ok Mr. Rhoades--a week's worth of detention," Mason seemed visibly relieved, sitting back in his chair but then Cross hit him with a whammy. "Still can't let this entire thing slide, so for the rest of the day you'll wear the plug."

"Fuck!" Mason mentally cursed, forgetting about the plug and all of its horrible, pleasurable wonders.

Any Wizard Academy teacher or faculty member had the option to force a student to wear a vibrating buttplug up their holes for any amount of time. All of the plugs were controlled via a Wizard Tech app that all of the Academy faculty members had access to.

Without complaint, Mason got out of his chair and bent over the front of his desk, pulling down the shorts until everyone in class could see the two bare globes, while Mr. Cross rustled around in his desk for the infamous buttplug.

It didn't take long to find it; it was 5 inches long and as thick as a baby's arm, but still could pack an orgasmic punch and it seemed like its next victim would be Mason himself.

Mr. Cross was enjoying himself; first he had gotten a extra bagel from the cute young coffee shop barista along with a phone number that read "Geoff XXX-XXXX", then Mr. Hogan--a English teacher--was definitely flirting him in the teacher's lounge, and finally, he had the opportunity to tease and torture the most annoying student out all of his five classes: Mason Rhoades himself!

He almost wanted to pinch himself just to see if he was dreaming, but decided against it so he could really savor this fantastic dream.

As he neared Mason's bent over body, he crouched down onto the balls of his feet and attempted to pry open the teen's phat ass cheeks himself, but was running into some trouble.

"Mr. Grimshaw, do you think you could help me out here?" Cross asked over his shoulder to the quiet, dark-skinned wrestler sitting a couple desks over.

The teen hopped out of his chair and wordlessly helped out, gripping each cheek with two large hands to pull them apart as Cross stared at Rhoades' delectable pink jockpussy. Although it seemed like the quiet teen was bored with what was going on, the more than easily-seen erection tenting the front of his shorts made it obvious that this was having an effect on him.

"Thank you Mr. Grimshaw, but if you could just lube this up for me."

"Sure." Mason moaned lowly at the deep, vibrating gruffness of Grimshaw's voice.

Grimshaw spit onto the black plug, before doing it again until the short rounded cylinder was slick with his own saliva.

Cross was satisfied and without warning jammed the plug deep into Mason's wet, hot gripping insides, which easily took the length of the buttplug until it was firmly secure within him.

"AH SHIT!" Mason yelled, but was quickly silenced by the black teen smacking his large ass--leaving a red handprint on the right ass cheek. Mason shot the hulking adonis an annoyed glare, but received a blank stare in return.

"What the fuck is that dude's problem?!" Mason thought to himself, he knew little about Duke Grimshaw, a 4th year just like him, but thought he was a bit of a weirdo despite being extremely good-looking, not as good-looking as himself though.

Before the teen went back to his seat, Cross patted him on his bulky shoulder with a swift and short, "Thank you Mr. Grimshaw."

"Now Rhoades, hopefully this will teach you to make it to class on time." With that Cross returned back behind the desk, grabbing the discarded book and silently reading it.

Mason sat back in his chair, tensing up at the already building dull vibration keeping his hard cock hard and tried to focus on anything else. Unfortunately it wouldn't be any good and the last thought to go through Mason's head, before everything became clouded with arousal was:

"Today's going to be really fucking long..."

END OF CHAPTER TWO

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