Winning team

[UncutBrit]

It was getting towards the end of the year. Exams were looming, and me and my mates were all studying hard. My sixth form had had a brilliant year for rugby and cricket, winning county tournaments, and were looking forward to outdoing the competition in athletics too. The only problem was Martin, or rather Martin's attitude. Despite hitting the pool for an hour every morning (our school had a pool and a brilliant coach, a rare combination) and the gym every night, Martin had got it into his head that he was going to sink like a stone come race day.*

I told him the only thing slowing him down was the bulge in his trunks, causing drag. And did my part by emptying his balls as often as possible. There was no hardship in that, he was a good looking lad, with straight blond hair that fell over his eyes, high cheekbones and crisp definition to every muscle on his body. I liked Martin, he was a nice guy, and good sex. However much he showered, the faint smell of chlorine mingled with his sweat, as he rocked his lean body back and forth, pumping his fat cock like a piston into my arse. For a young lad, he was surprisingly good at taking his time, and I always enjoyed the sessions we had together. At this time, I was living in a self contained 'granny flat' annexed to my parents' house. My brother was at uni, so I had the place to myself, and thanks to some early experimentation involving me in the flat yelling at the top of my lungs and my sharp eared brother listening from various parts of the house, we knew that it was virtually soundproof. Which was just as well, as my brother had a drum kit. Martin would sometimes come by after the gym and spend the night. We'd hit the books until we got bored, watch tv until we got horny, and fuck until we got tired.

I should say that he wasn't the only one. My school had some borders and some day boys, and as I lived very close, I'd often have friends over for homework or the weekend. For guys used to dorms, my flat was very private, we could (and did) get up to all sorts from circle jerks to full sex. But back to Martin and the swimming competition.

I was in the library, when Marin approached, a book in his hand, his fingers holding a place. In hushed tones, he told me he was still anxious about the competition that Saturday morning, but he thought he had a solution. I read the article he was pointing out. It was about an island tribe who believed that the root of masculine power was in semen, and that the men would ritualistically fuck adolescent boys to turn them into men. Of particular value was the sperm of warriors. I was rock hard reading this, not least because one of the sexiest teachers was on library duty, and I couldn't help wondering if he'd be up for turning me into a man (he was, but that's another story). I asked Martin what he was getting at. 'You captained the rugby when we won. Gavin got the winning try, and he was on the cricket team... Will you help me do my race prep on Friday night?' Race prep usually meant a good nights sleep, protein shakes and for swimmers, a close body shave. My house was a short walk across the park to the pool. But I agreed that Martin could do it at my place, and that if he believed that taking sperm from winners would help him, I was more than happy to donate my own. For the rest of the week, I got things organised for Friday's prep. Martin didn't know how well prepped he was going to be.*

Friday night
Martin came over and I directed him into the shower for his shave. We got through several razors on his legs, but he only had a little fuzz on his chest. It gave me the chance to admire my friends body: 6'4 of lean, defined muscle, a light tan, except for the pale area where he'd worn his trunks in the sunshine. I had heard him referred to on more than one occasion as 'a strapping lad,' usually accompanied b a narrowing of he eyes as whoever delivered the compliment imagined what was under the clothes, what made that bulge in the front of his trousers.

I didn't need to imagine. The water made his skin glisten, but I was focussed on his cock. I ran the razor down his treasure trail into his dark pubes. His cock was rigid, and I gently moved it left and right, stretching the skin on his groin so I could make him smooth. He shaved his own balls, then turned around so I could do his arse. It was sculpted perfection, and when I was done it took all my willpower not to lean forward and rim him there and then. But I knew what was to come and held off. With a final rub down, we admired him in the mirror: Martin's body was as smooth and hard as a marble statue, at the peak of his training, and as close to perfection as I've ever seen a man. I unwrapped and rolled a condom onto his straining prick - not that he was going to be fucking, this was just to catch any precum and semen that came out. We didn't want to waste a drop.
*
'Is Gavin here already?' he asked. I said he was, and I had a special present for Martin to wear for the 'ritual': the jock I'd worn when I captained the rugby team to victory. Martin put it on, his hefty balls making the pouch bulge, his rubber clad cock held fast by the thick elastic. 'Ready?' I asked. He nodded. We walked into the front room to see Gavin... And David, Matt and Ben. Martin's jaw dropped. These were the five most successful athletes in the school. 'I know what you're thinking,' said David, 'and the answer is yes, we are all here to help you win tomorrows race.' 'Enough talking,' I said, 'Martin needs an early night, so everybody...strip!'

I watched my friends undress. I'd seen them do so hundreds of times in the changing rooms or for bed. They all had their rituals. David folded his clothes neatly on a chair, while Matt bunched his together and threw them in the corner. There was a charge in the air as six guys got ready for sex. I dimmed the lights, pulled a footstall to the centre of the room, put on some music to set the mood, and quickly stripped off myself. In a few minutes, the room was full of naked lads, their erect penises bobbing in front of them. Matt was slowly stroking his cock, David was rubbing Gavin's and Ben was stretching, as if he was about to play a game of tennis. Martin bent over the footstall, his arse raised up at a perfect angle for entry, and I drizzled a little massage oil onto the top of the cleft of his arse. It ran down between his smooth cheeks and I pushed a finger into his hole. He was tight, but I smiled, not for long.*

David was first. I'd worked out the order: smallest to largest. David had a nice five inches, perfect for sucking. His cock was cut, heavily veined and had a broad glans which jutted out from the shaft. Also, I've never known anyone who could get as hard; I once saw him in a dare with some mates in the showers to see who could keep a wet towel hanging on their erection the longest. David was the last man standing. He was like his cock, a compact, muscly blond, with big tight nuts that made a lot of spunk. He represented the school at gymnastics, specialising on parallel bars. The perfect warm up for Martins arse. With a palm full of oil, I lubed his shaft and guided his cut helmet towards the hole. David gripped Martin's hips, and sank in slowly, until his pubes were scratching the bare arse before him. Both lads groaned, savouring the moment. David tended to be a bottom, and I knew he wouldn't last long as his cock felt the intense stimulation of the hot hole it was buried in. I also wanted as much spunk from him as possible, so I slipped a finger into David. His arse was familiar territory to everyone in the room, and I quickly found his prostate. He gave a little cry of pleasure as I rubbed it, then he started his fuck proper. David was a randy guy, and was soon pumping his dick into Martin. Ben, Gavin and Matt were watching the action from the sofa, forearms criss crossing as they stroked each other. Martin's mouth hung open as the smaller, muscle boy fucked. 'Ben,' panted David like a horned up pup, 'you're next, don't waste an open mouth, let him get you ready.'

Ben didn't need encouragement. He jumped up, stood in front of Martin and angled his cock down into his friend's mouth. Martin greedily sucked it as David continued to fuck, and I continued to finger David's flexing, pulsing hole. Under other circumstances I'd have had my cock in David in a second. But it was Martin's night.*

Martin had his hands on Bens arse cheeks, pulling the slim six incher into his throat. Ben was another cut guy, racquet sport champion of the school, a bit kinky too, I thought, he'd shocked everyone by taking his shirt off one day to reveal a short metal bar through each nipple. I later found out that if you pulled on these while fucking him, his arse would quiver around your cock. He had a smaller glans at the end of his shaft, which he loved having nibbled or wanked hard. He loved oral, and was the guy who introduced me to the delights of rimming. His jet black hair and slender frame gave him the classic English schoolboy look, like butter wouldn't melt, though he was often to be found in the toilets during breaks, openly wanking into a urinal. I later found out he had a habit of going to the local park toilets to get sucked by strangers, so the guy was practically insatiable.*

I felt David was close, and pushed down on his fucknut hard. My other hand went underneath, grabbed the plump ballsac and squeezed. David threw his head back, shoved his hips forward, and his abs flexed as he pumped spunk deep into Martin, who could only groan around the cock in his mouth. 'Go on, milk him,' Ben said to me. 'Milk the boy's spunk into his hole.' Ben I realised was more turned on than I'd thought. He had a thing for dirty talk. My squeezing of David's balls turned into a Massage as he came down from his climax. I pulled out my finger, and David slowly withdrew his cock from Martin, a sheen of sweat on his chest. Ben pulled out, and took up his position. 'Look at that hole,' he said in awe. 'Fucking lovely, loose and lubed, just how I like it.' Bens own hands went over the red palm prints David had left on Martin's back. 'Guide me in,' he said to me. 'This is like when we got our dogs to breed. You guide the stud's penis so he can inseminate the bitch.' Ben was wet with spit, and didn't need lube. 'Oh!' he exclaimed as the helmet went in with a squishing sound. 'David your spunk feels hot in here!' Martin was feeling the absence of cock keenly. 'Come on, then. Be a stud and fuck.'*

And fuck he did. Ben was a fit lad like the rest of us, and joyfully plunged his cock hard into Martin. I knew Martin could take it, and there were bigger cocks to come, but Ben screwed fast and hard. 'Not come since Wednesday, saving my spunk for your arse,' he said.

Ben's balls were loose and floppy, and made a slapping sound as he pumped. He kept up a steady stream of dirty talk, as I stood behind him rubbing my hands over his hard, smooth chest. 'Nothing like a well-spunked, shaved arse,' said Ben, looking down. 'I love watching my cock sliding into you.' He pulled back slowly, so the tip of his cock just rested outside Martin's hole. 'Martin, I wish you had this view,' he teased. 'My cock is covered with boy juice, and it's begging me to push it in and give you more. The piss slit is flaring open and shut. My precum is all mixed in with David's cream. And your open hole is just massaging my cock head.' Martin groaned, 'Please, Ben, put it back in... Finish off in me.' Ben's cock made a wet sound as the tip pushed an inch into Martin. 'More? You want more?' teased Ben. 'Just fuck him,' said Gavin, 'before I shoot my own jizz.'*

At that, Ben picked up the pace again. 'Yeah, Martin, Gavin's gonna have you, Kings is gonna have you, Matt's gonna have you... You'll have the best spunked arse in the school. Now here's mine...' I found the bars in his nipples and gave them both a good sharp squeeze as he flung his head back, and his hips shuddered against Martin's arse. Ben's breathing was ragged as he pulled out, squeezing the last few drops of cum into the tight pink hole he'd been violating.*

'Thanks, man,' he said, patting Martin's arse. He nodded to Gavin, 'All yours now.'*

Gavin stood over Martin for a few seconds. Martin looked over his shoulder with a look of apprehension - and for good reason: the cocks were starting to get seriously big. Unlike the other lads who'd gone before, Gav was a big, broad, hairy rugby player. He had real muscle and power. He also had a fat, uncut cock not far short of eight inches. It was awesome to look at. It had a slight upward curve and the glans was obscenely big. Heavy beads of precum drooled from it as he stood there. David had been sucking Gavin while Ben finished up, but it was too big to take deep into his mouth, so Gav's tool was glistening for the top half and dry at the base. His thick foreskin clad the purple helmet and he gently pulled it back with a couple of fingers and a smile played at his mouth as it cleared the thickest part of his glans. Ben and David usually loved playing with his foreskin and the (to them) ultra sensitive flesh beneath, but this time, Gav meant business, and didn't have time to play around. Having sized up the hole, he gripped his cock in one hand, and pushed the wet end into Martin. 'Ive got some spunk for you,' he said as he pushed in the first couple of inches. I don't know if Martin heard this, as his eyes were now squeezed shut, his teeth gritted. 'Come on,' said Ben, rubbing Martin's back, just above the jockstrap waistband, 'take the cock like a good slut boy.' Gavin gave a few light thrusts, then a slightly deeper one, giving Martin another inch. He pulled out almost to the tip. His shaft was coated in white boy spunk. He pushed in deeper. 'Good boy,' said Gavin. Gav pulled out again then pushed deeper... And deeper...

Martin let out a moan that sounded as though Gavin's cock had pushed the air from his lungs. 'Gotta work for that man spunk,' said Ben. Gavin was now holding his cock in Martin, right up to the hilt, the only stimulation coming from Martin's arse as it spasmed around the hot flesh invader.*

Then Gavin really let go. Like a Man unleashed, he didn't make love, he didn't screw, he rutted. Like a horny stag he Took control of the arse and threw his all into possessing the hole with his cock. Workmanlike he found a rhythm and gave long, powerful thrusts into Martin's hot cummy hole. Gavin was on one knee, giving us a good view of the shaft as he pulled back before plunging forward into the boy.

By this time I'd sat back to let Matt and David play with me as I was next in line. Gavin and Martin were an awesome sight. They were both the same height, but there the similarities ended. Martin was lithe, lean and smooth. There was something of the ideal about his sculpted body. Gavin was every inch a man. His thicker body, the black hair in his armpits and on his chest, his cocksure attitude... Though they were the same age they were yin and yang, man and boy, giver of sperm, receiver of cock.*

David nibbled at my foreskin. Ben was hard again. Matt stood up and poked his dick into my mouth, and I had a go at swirling my tongue around the broad glans. Ben buried his face between Gavin's thrusting buns and pushed his tongue into his hairy hole. Gavin stuck his hands behind his head, concentrating the motion of fucking in his hips. He had the look of a man in for the long haul. 'I'm fucking your cunt into submission,' he told Martin. 'Just give it up to me... That's right... Oh that's good...'

The sounds were getting wetter and sloppier as Martin's hole resigned to the cock pounding in and out. Gavin's dense black pubes were matted and glistening with boysperm and fuckjuice. His balls which had begun by swinging freely, were now like a clenched fist between his legs.

David by now had me rock hard, and was trying to take as much of my thick fat shaft into his mouth as he could. His hands played with my nuts. Ben had taken over sucking Matt. 'Get me close,' I said to David. I didn't think Martin could take much more heavy fucking, as Gavin shoved his hips forward to bury his cock as deep as it would go and held it there. From behind, I could see the balls contracting and the root of his cock pulsing as his sperm load was pumped out to join the others.*

Gavin sat back slowly easing himself out of Martin. His jaw was loose as he surveyed his handiwork; the mixed spunk glistening in the dark of the boy's body.

My turn now. I reluctantly pulled David's mouth off my dick, and got behind Martin. In it went to that hot, wet hole, the living sperm of my three friends swirling around my cock head as Martin's body struggled to accommodate this new invader.*

I tried to be gentle, but Martin's hole was greedy for more cock and cum. Gavin had fucked the hole so well, it had lost its usual tightness. I pushed down on Martin's hips to bring his arse up in the air, so the spunk wouldn't just run out. There was already a trickle of semen on his balls, so I scooped that up with my cock and pushed it in. As I went deeper, Martin got tighter. He groaned as I got to the base of my cock, held it for a moment and then began making short, stabbing thrusts. Fuck, it felt good. So hot, slick and horny, I knew I wouldn't last long.

Matt, meanwhile, was getting ready for his turn. A word on Matt: he was a cross country runner, a skinny guy with blond hair, an angular face, of average height. Even his cock, when soft, looked pretty average. But when he was hard, his outstanding physical attribute became obvious: Matt was hung big. 10.5" and too fat to get your hand round, he had some serious meat. The first we knew of it was when in the showers after PE one day, a cocky kid reckoned he had the biggest dick in the class. Matt, being a soft spoken guy got picked on by this kid, laughing at his dick and challenging him to 'see how big you can get that little thing'. Red faced with embarrassment, Matt got himself hard. The laughter stopped when he was at half mast. The cocky kid had been bragging he was off the end of a six inch ruler (just about). At that age, Matt was nine inches, easily the biggest in the year, and the story went round the school like wildfire.*

Matt had grown into a confident fucker. He grabbed Ben, bent him over the arm of the sofa, and slid his cock into the lad. Ben loved Matt's cock, loved taking it hard, and squeezed his tight hole around the massive shaft. As I was giving it to Martin, Matt was picking up the pace on Ben, doing him harder and faster, occasionally yanking it out, slapping Ben across the arse, then driving it in again. Matt knew how Ben liked it and was getting into top gear, thrusting his dick deep into the tight hole.*

I watched the frantic fucking while I slid my wet cock in long, firm thrusts. David was wanking as he watched the four of us. Suddenly he stood, his legs shaking. 'Quick, Kings - I've got to cum again!'
'On my cock,' I said, pulling my hips back so that I was just clear of Martin's hole. David straddled Martin's back, facing me, his hand furiously working his cock. He put one hand on my shoulder, angled himself down towards my shaft, and spunked a good load of cum over my cock. Some went in my pubes, some went on Martin's arse, but most of it went on the broad back of my cock. David watched as I inched back into Martin, his semen riding in on my cock.*

I was getting close when Martin said that he needed a change of position. We carefully switched around so that I was sitting on the footstall, and he was astride me. He lowered himself down over my dick. From this angle he was tighter, and he was in control, bouncing up and down on me, the spunk being driven deeper into his body while my hands roamed over his tight belly and awesome chest. Ben announced he was going to spunk, and Matt pulled out of him. I was close too - too close to pull out now.*

'Don't waste it,' said Martin, urgently. 'Get you cock in alongside.' And he leaned forward. Ben, slightly awkwardly, managed to slide his cock into Martin's arse. It felt impossibly tight, but it also felt hot to have another cock alongside my own, pinned together in my mate's boycunt. Ben thrust half a dozen times, while Martin held as still as he could. Ben let out a yell, punched his hips to give himself as much depth as he could, and I felt the pulse of his orgasm, the hot jet of cum on the underside of my cock. That was enough for me. I held Martin's hips and thrust upwards, firing volleys of spunk into him. Amazingly, Ben had managed to keep his cock in while I was coming, and we held together inside Martin for a few moments, savouring the feeling.*

We carefully untangled ourselves, trying not to spill any semen. Martin and Matt stood facing each other. Two boys, one naked, one in a jock, one ready to fuck, the other ready for the final assault on his arse at the end of an epic night of sex.*

Martin lay on his back on the floor, a cushion under his hips. We watched as Matt pushed Martin's knees up to his chest, inspecting the hole. It was gaping, pink, glistening with fresh sperm. 'Gonna need a big cock to fill that hole,' said Ben, still getting his breath back. 'We've wrecked it, boys!'

'Not quite written off yet,' said Matt, and he locked his thumbs into the backs of Martin's knees as the tip of his cock found its way to the opening. Matt moved his hips in a tiny motion that rubbed his helmet in circles around the other lad's flesh, coating himself with his friends' spunk. Then it went in, slowly, slowly, no rush. You could hear the cum bubbling and squelching around the thick shaft as Martin felt his loose hole be stretched once again. I was amazed by how a natural bottom like Ben could take a hard pounding from Matt's cock straight off the bat, yet Martin was struggling, even now. We could only imagine the loads of sperm - how many now was it? Six? - as they eased the way for Matt, some around his cock, the rest being forced ahead by his glans, deep into the boy. Martin was nearly folded in half as Matt began the final fuck, every muscle in every wiry limb in his hard body devoted to the one task of delivering sperm from cock to hole. Matt's sport might have been one of patience and stamina, but there was no way he could last for long: the sights and sounds of the previous hour had got us all into a state of sexual excitement, and soon his thrusts became urgent. As Matt came with a long loud orgasm, Martin's body tensed. Matt's arse was clenched tight, his cock as deep as he could push it, his semen joining ours. Martin himself was bucking his hips as best he could from his position. As his fingers raked Matt's back, Martin came.

We were all spent. The boys got dressed as Martin pulled off the jock, the condom hanging off his limp penis, heavy with his ejaculation. He didn't waste a drop, drinking it there and then. It wasn't late, but by the time I came back from seeing the last of my friends off at the door, Martin was fast asleep, on his front on the sofa. I smiled. Martin got what he wanted: race prep. A good body shave, an early night, and the semen of the school's champions in his belly.*

Saturday morning
'How does my arse look?' Martin asked when I woke him up. I looked. Despite last night's gang fuck, his hole was back to how it began, tight as a virgin. Well maybe not quite, but still...

He'd slept for ten hours. He looked, if anything, even better than he had the night before. There was a glow to his skin, and energy in his movements, confidence in his voice. He was in the zone.

We walked to the pool across the park, Martin drinking his breakfast - a protein shake - on the way. 'God I'm horny,' he said. 'Quick, Kings, let me suck you off. One last load before the race.' I laughed as he practically dragged me into the toilets. There were a couple of older guys at the urinals, but Martin, having clocked that they were not there for a piss, ignored them, hunkered down and in full view of them, pulled out my cock and sucked it into his mouth, lips tongue and hand working my shaft. The older guys, dicks in hand, watched the show. I wondered idly if Ben had had them. I shut my eyes. The memory of last night, Ben's cock sliding into Martin along beside mine, cumming together... I felt the jizz rise again, and came into the warm wet mouth. Martin swallowed, I zipped up and we were on our way. 'Well,' said Martin, rubbing his legs where he'd been crouching, 'that's my quads warmed up.'*

I took the privilege of sports captain and joined Martin in the changing room. 'You're definitely fluffed,' I said as he stripped naked. 'You want to give everyone an eyeful?' Martin laughed and hit the showers. The changing room was crowded with guys from all over the county getting ready for their events. When I caught up with Martin, a guy from a rival school called Stewart was in there too, holding court. Surrounded by younger lads, he was telling them how many girls he fucked, how he'd been up late last night having a threesome with a couple of chicks... All bullshit, of course, but the younger ones love all that stuff. Martin was quietly getting showered and into the right mindset. 'Hey Martin,' said Stewart, 'what am I gonna beat you by today? Five seconds? Ten?'*
'Whatever, Stew.'
Stewart rattled off his times for various distances.
Martin ignored him.
'Can't you grow pubes yet?' Stewart jeered.*
'Champions shave.'
'Yeah, but the bitches love this,' said Stewart, running his hand through the admittedly impressive spray of dark hair on his chest. 'Almost as much as they love a winner.'*
Martin switched off the shower. I was struck by his ability not to be rattled. I threw his trunks to him, and he slid them up over his hips. Fuck he looked hot.*
'Brought your boyfriend?' said Stewart nodding at me. The kids laughed again.*
'Stewart,' said Martin calmly, 'the only thing that matters is who wins this race. Unlike you I didn't stay up half the night with a couple of desperate, ugly slags, so right now I am horny enough to fuck even your sorry arse if you lose.'*
'What about when I win?'
'I probably won't feel it, but you can fuck me. Deal?' Martin held out his hand. Stewart shook it. The coach from Stewart's school stuck his head round the corner.
'Ah, good sportsmanlike behaviour,' he said, nodding at the handshake. 'Get suited up, Stewart, I want you poolside. Your race is in five minutes.' And he went.
'You'll feel it, pal,' Stewart said. 'I'm gonna enjoy fucking your humiliated arse the second we're back in here.'*

I found a place in the crowded gallery. I could see that Stewart was spending the time before the race goading Martin. They were in adjacent lanes which didn't help. When their names were announced, and the swimmers stood in their starting positions, I could see Martin looked a bit rattled. Then he stopped, looked over at the gallery, said something to Stewart and got back into start position. He hadn't been looking at me. I craned round to see what he'd seen: Gavin, Ben, Matt and David were right at the front by the starting position. I smiled.*

There's no doubt about it, Stewart was a very talented swimmer, but so too was Martin, and talent is no substitute for preparation. Over the four lengths of the race, I cheered myself hoarse, though it was clear that the race was won in the space between Martin's ears. I watched his bright green swimming cap as he swam, half a body length behind his rival for three lengths. At each turn, the red cap was a second in front. In the splash and the water, I saw the black Os of the swimmers' mouths as they grabbed a breath between strokes. Then on the fourth and final length, it happened. I knew it would.*

Stewart had started confidently. Too confidently. He'd put all of his power into a flashy start. He was coming up for air more often than Martin. Martin had been keeping up, pacing himself, and waiting for his chance. On the final turn, it happened. Martin edged up so that they turned together. Stewart surfaced first, and started the thrash to finish. But Martin stayed under water with firm, strong strokes, inching ahead. By the time he came up for air, he was half a body length ahead. Stewart seemed to be working harder and getting less momentum. Martin's smooth stroke quickened, he kept his head down, and powered into the lead.*

It was a decisive victory. Martin caught my eye from the podium. I grinned. Stewart looked knackered and pissed off. Martin looked like he was good to go again. Did I imagine that twitch in his trunks? Martin headed the procession back to the changing rooms, slapping the hands of his friends as he walked by.*

I checked that all the teachers and coaches were busy setting up the next event, and headed into the changing room myself. I elbowed through the crowd of lads gathered in the shower. I had to laugh. Stewart was on his knees on the cold hard tiled floor. Martin was behind him, thrusting hard. They were both getting the fuck they deserved. I dispatched one of the gawping lads to keep an eye out until Martin finished, leaned against the wall, and became a spectator once again for an impressive display of athleticism from Martin.*

We walked home together, me, Martin, Matt and David.
'Honestly, Kings, I had to hold myself back for three lengths. I felt I could've thrashed him. Only my strategy slowed me down to his speed.'
'Ha,' I said, 'sperm power.'
'One thing bothers me,' he said, 'with the load I gave him, Stew's gonna win his next ten races.'

We waited at the driveway as my parents drove out, my mother demanding to know the race result and giving Martin an awkward hug through the car window when he told her. 'Back late tonight,' she said, blowing me a kiss as they pulled out into the road.*

The four of us looked at one another.*
'Right,' said Martin, 'who fancies a fuck?'

 

[Craiger]

Never underestimate those spunky little swimmers....they'll give strength and power ...
Great story. Wish I could have been in on the prep night.

Craiger

 

[UncutBrit]

I forgot I wrote this! Still makes me horny!

 

[Craiger]

Well, best write another one. I re-read the entire story again and it still makes me horny... We do need another one, UncutBrit....

Craiger

 

[UncutBrit]

Craiger, who would you like to hear more about? Have loads of stories to tell!

 

[Craiger]

I'll leave that up to you. What is your favorite? I like romance as well, but I'd be happy with anything you choose.

Craiger

 

[UncutBrit]

Well as you've asked for more, here it is.

One of the loose ends from the last story was the teacher I had a massive crush on - and how we ended up getting together. It's a story hinging on coincidence, good fortune and some amazing sex! Places and faces have been tweaked to protect the guilty.

The place: South of France. The time: my gap year. I was working over the summer in a little café-bar on the coast, brushing up my French, earning enough to cover a social life, topping up my tan. I had a boyfriend, André, from the town. A complete summer romance thing, he was thin as a whip, nineteen, jet black curly hair, amazing smooth hard body, and an arse that could get fucked for hours (and did). Didn't speak a word of English, but that didn't matter. If I had a day off we'd go to the beach and fuck in the dunes, if I had a night off, I'd fuck him in my attic room above the café, with the windows open, a cool breeze wafting over our bodies, no doubt audible to passers by, and not caring. He walked around shirtless all day long, with a wiggle of the hips that no red blooded man could see without thinking about what that would feel like around his tool.

I was just finishing up a shift one afternoon. The lunch crowd had subsided and the patron was going to look after the bar himself for the small knot of regulars at the bar. To my amazement, through the door walked a very familiar face.
'Kingsley?'
'Mr Johnson!'

We were both amazed to see each other: a genuine coincidence. Mr Johnson - 'Oh, call me Henry, you've left school!' - was passing through, stopping in the town for a couple of days before going on to see his friends in northern Spain. I should say a few words about him: he was hot! 32, fit, broad, dirty blond unruly hair. Really completely masculine, and he had a bulge between his legs that had on more than one occasion distracted me from the history he taught. He really knew his subject, commanded total respect, and like all good teachers was a really fair guy. I think I fell for him when he covered a PE lesson, and proved himself to be a fantastic rugby player, showing us how to launch a tackle. I remember going for him, getting my arms around his waist and trying to pull him down, but he was just too strong and pulled away easily leaving me in the mud. I don't think I managed to meet his eye for the rest of the term, playing that moment over and over again, remembering how his muscular body moved against mine, a hint of what he'd be like in bed. I nurtured a vain hope he would join the rest of us in th showers but of course he didn't.

'What are you doing?' He asked.
'Was going to grab a bottle of wine and head down to the beach with my boyfriend. Want to come?' I couldn't resist staring at the shape of his pecs under his polo shirt, and the thought of seeing Mr Johnson sunning himself was getting me half hard. I'm such a flirt!
'There's a lovely spot up the coast - want me to drive you both?'
'Sure!'
'I'll get the car.'

I quickly phoned André. 'My teacher has turned up,' I said in French down the phone. 'Very sexy. He's taking us up the coast... How soon can you get here?'

Within quarter of an hour we were in Mr Johnson's car, speeding along the cliff top road, until we reached a turning, and rolled down a steep slope to a patch of gravel. A path led down through some scrub to a perfect little cove, sunlit and secluded. I spread out a couple of towels. I noticed Mr Johnson couldn't keep his eyes off André as he dropped his linen slacks to reveal a well-filled white speedo. 'Cute,' he said to me out of the side of his mouth.
'Amazing shag too,' I said with a wink.

Mr Johnson pulled his shirt over his head. He was paler than either of us, but still had the pecs and muscular waist I'd grabbed hold of on the rugby pitch that time. A light dusting of hair on his chest leading down to the belt buckle he was now undoing. Fuck he was perfect! Big round nipples too... I imagined sucking them... And realised I was staring. He realised too, and he smiled at me. 'Not getting your kit off?' He asked with a wry smile.

I stripped. Mr Johnson lowered his trousers and was wearing tight white briefs. 'We are matching!' He said in French to André who laughed and stretched out on the sand, face down so that his pert arse looked like two perfect globes. I was down to my blue briefs, and I too went face down so Mr Johnson wouldn't see I was nearly fully hard. 'You two not coming for a swim?' He asked. 'Sure,' I said, 'see you in there.'

Mr Johnson turned and ran down to the water. From the back he looked amazing as he powered down to the sea. He waded in and was soon waist deep. I grabbed André's hand and pulled him after me, and soon the three of us were splashing and dunking each other, laughing like loons, until André disappeared under the water, and grabbed Mr Johnson's arse. A full on play fight between the two of them ensued, in which I acted as the referee, which gave me a good chance to cop a feel of both of them. Each so sexy in their own way, the smooth hard French boy, and the muscular, hairy man. There was no way the boy would win: in a short time, Mr Johnson had him hoisted over his shoulder, and marched out of the sea. His pants were transparent, and I could see the thick cock curving up, barely held back by the wet fabric. Mr Johnson threw André down in the sand. I couldn't resist pinning the boy down and giving him a deep kiss there and then, our salty tongues dancing against each other. 'Wow, if that's what the loser gets, what about the winner?' Mr Johnson asked. 'The loser, of course,' I said, rolling André over, and pulling down his speedos.

'Fuck...' Said Mr Johnson, admiring the boys naked buttocks. 'Fuck that is nice.'
'Tastes as good as it looks,' I said cheekily. 'Come on, he's always clean when he knows we're coming to the beach.'
'You sure?'
I just nodded, and Mr Johnson wasted no time in getting down between André's legs. I pulled the trunks off the rest of the way, as Mr Johnson grabbed an arse cheek in each hand, separated them, and dove in between with his tongue.

André squealed as the man's tongue probed up inside his hole. He loved being rimmed, I knew, almost as much as he liked being fucked... And rimming him made him NEED to get fucked. Many's the time I'd gone down to his sweet hole while he slept and woken him up to the insatiable urge to get cock into him.

Mr Johnson was making growling noises as he feasted on the boycunt, and André was moaning softly. 'Give him something to keep him quiet,' said Mr Johnson, raising his head for a moment. I shucked my briefs, letting my cock spring free, and pushed it between André's lips. He started sucking powerfully, as though his mouth was doing to my cock what he wanted his arse to be doing.

'Mr Johnson, he can't take much more... Do you want to fuck him?'
'I've wanted nothing else since I saw him. He's absolutely gorgeous.'
'Great, he likes you too... I'd love to watch you fuck him.'

Mr Johnson sat back on his haunches. His front was covered with sand, the bulge in his briefs even more prominent. When he peeled them off, his thick, clean cock sprang out. The head was significantly thicker than the rest, it was eight inches, thick, but here's the killer: it curved gracefully upwards, like a scimitar.

'Got any lube?' He asked. I reached I to my bag. Suntan lotion. It would have to do. 'Wow, sir,' I said, falling back into an old habit, 'are you taking us for sex ed?'

A wicked grin spread over his face. 'Yeah, sex ed you could probably learn a thing or two. Make sure the hole is loose enough to take cock, but not too loose or you'll lose sensation. You're like me, Kings, very thick so it takes a lot of work and a lot of lube.'

He'd gone into teacher mode, as if he was taking us for a practical. 'Tease the hole a bit,' he said, slapping his cock onto the hole that André was presenting so perfectly to him. He poured some lotion over the crack, so that it drizzled down and coated his glans. 'Looks a bit like spunk!' I said.
'Yeah, doesn't taste so good though. Now we push forward...'

'Uh! Not so fast!' André muttered in French.
'Good boy, relax,' responded Mr Johnson in the boy's own language, rubbing the small of his back. 'In this position, because my cock curves up, it's not hitting your prostate as Kingsley's would, so you are feeling full but not getting that pleasure you expect.' He pulled out. 'Roll onto your back.'

André did as he was told, and our teacher grabbed the boy's ankles, one in each hand, and rested them on his broad shoulders. His cock bobbing between his legs found the hole and he pushed his cock back in. 'This time my cock head is aimed straight for your prostrate. How is that now?'

André couldn't speak - his mouth hung open and his fingertips brushed Mr Johnson's thighs as he started to pump. Not the whole length, I noticed, just the first four inches or so. It was a good, solid fuck, a good rhythm, working the lube up into the loosening arse. Mr Johnson pulled out, squeezed more sun cream onto his shaft, and pushed back in. 'Ready for more?' He asked André, holding the cock deep in him.
'Oui... Donnez-moi... Donnez-moi...'
Mr Johnson pushed in another inch - then looked up at me in surprise. 'Ive hit his second ring already!'
I grinned. 'Told you he was a great fuck!'

André's arse was certainly special. When I met him he was a complete virgin to another cock, and even had a girlfriend. But the first night we spent together I discovered that apart from being handsome, apart from having a lean, defined body that made my mouth water just to look at it, and apart from having a tight, silky arse, his second ring wasn't so deep it was out of reach. The first week we fucked, he kept stopping me before I could get balls deep. I could feel the tip of my penis against something inside him, and for a while respected that he had let me in so far - but no further. One night, though, frustrated that I couldn't bury it in him completely, I begged him to let me try, 'just for a minute.' I promised him it would make me feel good and he might get used to it and enjoy it too... After all, he'd taken to getting fucked like a duck to water. After much persuading, he agreed, and so that night when I reached the barrier, I put him on his back, pressed his knees to his chest, and kept going. The look on his face, his gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut, made me worried I was hurting him, but I wanted - needed - to be in him completely, and I knew he wanted to please me... And then it happened. I felt it right at the tip of my cock, the flesh opening, accepting me into him. The tight ring slowly passing down the dome of my helmet as it got thicker and thicker. Then a pause, maybe for as much as five seconds at the thickest part. Neither of us were moving, we were both just focussed on what was happening deep in André's hole. And then, deliciously, the ring snapped tight again behind my glans. My cock was like a barb, penetrating deep into him.

I hadn't realised I'd shut my eyes, I was so lost in the moment. I opened them. André was looking up at me. The pain had gone. There was just shock, amazement, and pleasure. 'I have you,' he whispered. I tried to pull back, and he winced. That ridge of my cock hurt him a little. I pushed forward. When my groin was hard against him, it felt like the ring was about an inch beyond my glans. I started thrusting, really carefully, just catching the edge of my glans on that ring as I pulled out, and then letting his body pull me back in. The difference between a long slow fuck and finishing within a few thrusts was literally millimetres. I opted for the slow version. I have no idea how long we stayed locked together like that but when I came it was deep within him. And there were tears in his eyes when I became soft and slid gently out.

Mr Johnson was there, pushing up against that second ring. 'Go on, sir,' I said, 'go balls deep.'

André's fingertips had been resting on Mr Johnson's hips, and were gradually curling around to cup his buttocks. I could see the shaft of his penis slowly disappearing into the boy. The second ring was being pushed, but it wasn't opening yet. I recognised the gritted teeth, the beads of sweat on André's brow. I'd been there myself, and knew how amazing it felt. Suddenly André gasped, and he tried to push the older man away, but there was no way of stopping him now. That ring was slowly opening up and letting the big cock head through.

They both cried out, the man in pleasure, the boy in pain. I stroked André's heaving chest. He knew this moment would pass and soon the feeling would flip into a total pleasure sensation. The same hands pushing against Mr Johnson's hips would soon be pulling him in, encouraging him to go deeper. 'I... Can't... Help it...' Mr Johnson was panting. 'Got...to...fuck...'

And without waiting for André to get fully used to it, he started fucking, sharp hard thrusts. André was crying out now, caught between pain and pleasure. 'You've been spoiling this boy, Kings,' he said, 'going too soft. You've got to push a boy's limits or he'll never know what he's capable of.'

The thrusts were getting longer, but they were just as powerful. I watched Mr Johnson's cock appearing as he pulled it out, long thick and veiny, then heard the squishing noise as it vanished back into that amazing arse, spearing both rings and filling the boy with mancock. Once or twice it came all the way out, and for a second or so, I saw the hole close up tight against the invader. But the arse was no match for the cock, and back it went, churning the lube and precum into a foam.

André was now squarely in the pleasure headspace. Half-murmuring all those filthy French words I hadn't been taught in school (but had learned from the slutty exchange students who stayed one summer). Mr Johnson's stamina was nothing short of amazing. I would've cum almost instantly, he was making a three course meal out of it. Even watching them was getting me close.

'Sir! Sir, I'm going to cum, sir.'
'Excellent, come here.' He pulled out, and moved to one side, holding the boy's legs up. I plunged straight in, in through the first ring, through the hot arse, thorough the tight second ring, in one hard thrust. I looked deep into André's eyes as the cum exploded from my cock deep inside him. His face was a picture of ecstasy crossed with the relief of having his need for cum satisfied. Then I felt his hole tightening around me as he came with my cock held deep. Cum arced up onto his chest from his pulsing dick.

We stayed still for a few moments. I was just getting my breath back when Mr Johnson's hands found my buttocks. 'The refraction period - that is the time between orgasms - gets longer as you get older... I wonder when you'd be ready to take care of my needs, Kings?' And with that, Mr Johnson started lapping at my hole with his tongue.

At first I wasn't that keen on more sex, but as the post-orgasm glow faded, I started enjoying the feeling of the older man's tongue. My cock had softened and André wriggled out from under me. I cleaned the cum off his hard stomach on the way. The taste gave me a second wind: as Mr Johnson's tongue flicked my balls, I felt myself getting hard.

'Now it's your turn,' grinned André.
'Push out his cum, André,' said Mr Johnson raising his head briefly. 'I need it for lube.'

André obediently got on all fours beside me. Mr Johnson's tongue went to his hole, and lapped up my load as it leaked from my boyfriend. He transferred it bit by bit to my hole, lubricating me with my own semen, ready for his cock. I tried to remember the last time I got fucked: on the boat over to France, a Polish lad with a decent sized cock who had no idea what he was doing and lasted three minutes... this would be more of a challenge.

Mr Johnson eased into my hole. I felt the familiar feeling of stretching, the heat of the cock, the curve up into my hole. He worked it in, inch by inch, setting my arse on fire. Suddenly I could think of nothing else other than getting fucked, I needed it bad. 'Please sir, fuck me hard.' I needed that cock to bang my hole. Mr Johnson obliged. Having settled into my arse, he quickly took up the pace where he'd left it with André, and showed my boycunt no mercy as he slammed into me. André slipped his cock into my mouth and I sucked him to full hardness.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, with me spitroasted on the beach with a boy in one end and a man in the other, but Mr Johnson's relentless pounding seemed to go on forever. He was clearly a fit guy, but even he had a point of no return. I felt his thrusts getting urgent, then he fell over my back as his hips bucked deep and random, spewing his spunk into me. 'Quick, André,' said Mr Johnson, and my boyfriend pulled out of my mouth, scooted round, and planted his own dick into me just as he began to cum. My hand touched my cock - and it too started gushing hot spunk onto the sand.

The three of us lay panting, sticky and sweaty in the sunshine, sand sticking to our bodies. It took a good while before any of us could speak. 'You're a great fuck!' André eventually managed to say to my old teacher.

He rolled over and gave me a wink. 'You lads are something else.'
'How long are you in town for?'
'Until Friday... you up for more?'
'Any time, sir!'
He grabbed my soft cock.
'Been a long time since I let a lad fuck me,' he said, 'but maybe you'd have what it takes.'

We grinned at each other before the three of us ambled into the rolling waves to clean up, just as the sun was beginning to dip, and turned the wispy clouds the colour of fire.

 

[Craiger]

Wow! That was awesome, UncutBrit. I can't imagine another story could beat that, but I am sure you have one and I look forward to reading it. Your writing is erotic, romantic and extremely descriptive which means I have to rate your thread with a 5. Let's have more soon.

Craiger