The Cocksucker 2

I got used to Khyree’s "downlow" action. After pretty much every game and most practices, he'd wait until everyone else was gone or finishing up in the locker room, then come in for a massage. He remained strictly straight until the massage was done and he had checked for witnesses, then locked the door to ensure total privacy.

But one day I was surprised to see him barging in during halftime, when I was idly waiting for the game to be over. He saw me, his chest heaving beneath the thick pads he wore. He looked either angry or sad, I couldn't tell which.
"I fucked up," he said, "You gotta suck me off, okay? Just do it real quick. I gotta get back out there. Coach is gonna take me outta the game, man, I threw two interceptions already."

I pulled down his leggings and jockstrap. His huge cock was hard already with frustration, and gleamed with sweat. I took a deep breath of it -- he was always showered when we fucked around, so I wasn't used to the intoxicating musk of his unlaundered self. It made me dizzy with the power of his scent. I wasn't normally one of those queers who loves dirty underwear, as I'm actually kind of a neatnik. But for Khyree, I gladly made an exception.

He started gasping for air the moment his cock rose to full mast. He must have been excited, I thought, so worked up he was easy to turn on. I could sense the negative energy flowing through him and away as the sexual pleasure enveloped him and relaxed his muscles.
His nipples perked up between my fingers, and he let out a long, slow and deep moan, so loud it shook the unlocked lockers out in the locker room. His toes curled. Precum dribbled out of the tip of his dick, which I flicked with my tongue.

My hand caressed his balls, gently kneading them. The tension had completely gone out of him, and I was glad to have helped. I felt like I succeeded in my job as the team masseuse, even if I hadn't succeeded through massage. He was relaxed and calm and ready to go out and give the second half of the game his all.

"Lemme taste that shit when I nut, black guy," he said breathlessly, "Hold it in yo' mouth and let me swallow it."
"What?" I said. "Really?" I held his cock in front of my mouth and licked it like a lollipop. He squirmed on the massage table.
"Yeah, man, come on. I love the taste of my own nut. Give it to me, okay? But you gotta be quick. Halftime don't last forever," he said.

"Oh god, today I wish it did." I took his dick down to the root, determined to get him off quickly enough nobody would notice his disappearance from the game.
I let his cock sit in the back of my throat and choke me, his sweaty pubic hair plastered against my nose. His muscles quivered beneath my grasp and a great flow of cum escaped from his dick and into my mouth.
It was a giant wad of hot cum, and I wanted so bad to swallow it I almost did so instinctively. But I let it sit there, so warm and smooth it steamed and slipped on the surface of my tongue.

I opened my mouth for him, and he enveloped me with his thick lips. We embraced and the cum dripped off my tongue and onto his. My fingers dug into his strapping back muscles, rubbing them harshly to get them reinvigorated for the game.
He let go of me, smiled and said, "Thanks. You won't tell no one, right?" He asked me that every time we fucked around. It was almost endearing how paranoid he was that we would get caught. He didn't have anything to worry about, I thought, he was so good the team would never cut him for something so minor as a little cocksucking. Of course, he'd lose most of his endorsements. But at least he'd have a job.

My conclusion was soon to be tested, I saw as Khyree stepped away from me. big Stack stood there. Big Stack was the backup quarterback for the Bumcraw Bucks, a second-stringer with the attitude and muscle of a first-stringer. He was black like most of the team, crawling with tattoos and a thug style that meant he would never be asked to do endorsements, at least not for anything more mainstream than doo rags and cocoa butter.

"Well, well, well," he said with a deep, booming Southern drawl, which betrayed his northern Mississippi roots. "I see we got ourselves a couple faggots. I ain't know faggots was allowed to play ball. Don't you worry you might break a nail?"
"No, wait-" Khyree said. "It's not what you think. I'm not a faggot."

"From what I saw, you just kissed a faggot and swallowed your own nut," he said, "That makes you a bitch, don't you think? Most importantly, it makes you my bitch. Cuz I know you ain't wanna lose those endorsement deals."
"Big Stack, come on, my black men," Khyree said.
"Don't gimme that 'my black men' shit," Big Stack said. He looked to me too, "And I know the team would fire you in an instant if they knew you was sucking player dick."
"So what do you want?" Khyree said.
"Today, all I want is a blowjob. The second half been delayed due to a problem with the tv relay system," he said, "We got twenty minutes at least."

I got down on my knees. Big Stack hadn't actually seen Khyree suck a cock, so I thought the blackmail might eventually lose its luster. I saw Khyree kiss a cummy faggot yesterday is about a thousand times more powerful than I saw Khyree kiss a cummy faggot awhile ago. The first is a witnessed event, the latter is youthful indiscretion and idle gossip.

And besides, Big Stack was the other black guy on the team whose cock I had really wanted to suck ever since joining the Bucks staff. In my mind, when taking the job, I thought I'd be surrounded by sexy football jocks and their swinging dicks all the time. But in truth, I was bored often, and, until Khyree, my most frequent player was a really fat lineman, whose dick was mediocre even for a fat guy.

I undid Big Stack's football leggings and his jock. His crotch smelled funky and unwashed, like Khyree’s but even more so. You could tell he was totally straight -- no gay man could ever smell this earthy and raw, I thought.
His dick was hot and thick in my mouth, too big for me to swallow so I just took in what I could.

"Come on over here and suck my dick. I got a bitch with a nice ass at home who tug on my shit every night," he said, "I want some bigass lineman mouth my dick."
"What? Come on, Big Stack-"
"You want the world to know what I saw?" Big Stack said, "You know there's a security camera in this office, right? I could pull that tape and get your whole fucking career ruint, pretty boy. You want that?"
"No, Big Stack... It's not a big deal, I know you go downlow. You told me you did," he said, "You told me you did it too."

"I told you I used to," Big Stack said. "I'm a fucking football hero in Texas now, Khyree. I got females everywhere I look. I don't need that shit no more. That's for little boys and poor black guys."
"But still, you're okay with it!" Khyree said. "How you gonna trip a black guy up like this?"
"There's a big difference between going downlow with yo' boys, at home, in the dark, and not talking about it. That's what civilized black guys do. They don't even mention that shit, 'cept maybe at the City Barbershop," Big Stack said. "You don't do it in the fucking locker room.

 Now get to suckin', or I got some journalists on speed dial."
"You're doing it too."
"I ain't sucking cock," he said, "And 'sides, I ain't never gonna get no endorsements anyway. What do I care? Ain't illegal, and everyone already hates me on account of my child support bullshit in the press."

"It's not a big deal for me either," Khyree said. He was evidently trying to bluff Big Stack, but he was so worried about it he couldn't hide how important it was to him.
"Sure. If it ain't no big deal, then just get down on yo' knees and suck," Big Stack said, "I ain't talkin' no mo'. You do it or I nut in this faggot's mouth, then start telling coaches, reporters, fans in the bleachers. I will motherfucking tweet it at yo' mama, bitch. Get over here and suck."

Khyree got down on his knees. He gulped and looked at it with sickly eyes. "I ain't really a cocksucker myself," Khyree said, again, trying to bluff Big Stack but not being very good at it.
"Shut up, bitch. I can tell you lookin' at that hunk o' meat like you's a dying man and that's the only food on earth," Big Stack said.

Khyree sucked it down, reluctantly at first then seemingly forgetting he was supposed to be unwilling. I focused on the sides of Big Stack's cock, sucking on the shaft and licking the sweat from his balls.
"Yeah, stick to my balls," he said, "I want the faggot on my balls, and the other faggot on my dick." Big Stack laughed as though it was hilarious. "Ooh-wee, this is nice!"

I felt Big Stack's orgasm coming before he said anything, in the tightening of his balls beneath my fingers and the muscles of his crotch contorting with bliss and tension. But he still gave plenty of warning, oohing and cooing into Khyree’s ear, taunting him about how good of a cocksucker he was, how the whole world needed to know he had legendary blowjob skills.

Finally the cum sprayed, most of it making it in Khyree’s mouth. I licked up the bit that dribbled out his lips, sucking up the tendrils of manjuice into my ravenous mouth. I cleaned off Big Stack's dick, while Khyree pushed away. He stared up at Big Stack hatefully.
"Alright, you two, I expect more of this before every game. Got it?" he said, then pulled his jockstrap back up and left.