Change of Plans (an Institute story)
by Wrestlr
2. Fag Shit
I woke up just in time for—bam!—a massive orgasm and—bam!—my morning wood—bam!—spurting cum—bam!—all over the inside—bam!—of my boxers! Ahh ... man!
Holy fuck! A wet dream? Probably because I hadn’t jerked off before bed like I usually did.
I sat up and shook my head. I couldn’t remember what I had dreaming about, but it must have been danged good to wake me up with a powerful orgasm like that! Man, I sure wished I could remember that dream.
Whew!—Thumper was rolled over on his side with his back to me, and he seemed to be still asleep. That would have been a major-league embarrassment, if his telepathy had picked up on me shooting my load just a few feet away! I wondered what being around someone having an orgasm was like for a telepath, then decided I didn’t want to know.
I crept out of bed as quietly as I could.
I went to my dresser and eased open a drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of boxers. I slipped off the messy pair I’d slept in, which was kind of awkward since I had to keep from smearing the wetness down my leg. I bunched the messy pair up and used them to wipe the last of my cum off my hip and crotch and sensitive dick-head. Then into the hamper I tossed them, and made a mental note to haul the hamper to the laundry room in the basement soon before the cum stank up my room.
I was just about to step into the fresh pair when I heard Thumper say, “Nice ass,” behind me.
Okay, be cool, I thought. It’s just Thumper. We’re all guys here. Nothing to be ashamed of. Be cool.
“Thanks,” I chuckled. I wiggled my ass at him a little as I went ahead with pulling on my boxers, just to show I was cool and joking it off.
I turned around. Thumper was sitting up and yawning, stretching his arms and chest. The top half of the sheet bunched around his waist. Man, he had a nice chest; I sure would’ve liked to pull back that sheet and see whether he had morning wood too, how big it was, whether it was bigger than mine.
“You want to shower first?” I offered. Sure, it might have seemed like I was being a good host and all, but my ulterior plan was to get a glimpse of him getting naked for a shower or to catch a peek when he came out.
“Naw,” Thumper yawned again. “You go ahead. I think I’m gonna sleep in today, if that’s all right with you?”
Dang. Major disappointment. Thumper didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.
“Fine by me,” I replied. “Just be sure to lock up when you and Jase leave.” I didn’t have any qualms about letting my cousins hang out after Chris and I left for school. After all, the pamphlet said telepaths mind-assaulted people; it didn’t say they stole televisions. Besides, Jase and Thumper were family. And all my secrets were stashed in my head, not hidden in my room where somebody, like my mom, could find them if they got nosy.
I started digging fresh clothes out of my closet. “You and Jase got anything special planned for today?” It was probably a bummer for them, being left alone with nothing to do now that our folks had bolted and with Chris and me at school.
Thumper flexed an arm and scratched the back of his shoulder. “Naw, not really. Maybe I’ll stop by the school this afternoon and say hello to Coach. I haven’t seen him since I was recruited. Think he’ll remember me?”
Before he got recruited and taken off to the Institute, Thumper was on the school’s soccer team. My baseball coach also managed the soccer team and had also been his coach, back when Thumper was a hotshot high school jock like me.
“Sure,” I said. “He asks about you sometimes, whether we’ve heard from you, how you’re doing—that sort of thing. He’ll be happy to see you. Baseball practice starts at three. Come by around then.” Another ulterior motive: If Thumper kept him distracted, maybe Coach would let us off easy on the last practice before our last game before graduation. Heh! Did I come up with good plans, or what?
The best part of my day was always baseball practice. Or rather, after practice. See, I could barely keep my eyes to myself in the showers when I was surrounded by all my hunky teammates. Watching all those muscular athletes undress in the locker room and showering with them were some of the major advantages to being on the team. I lusted after their sexy bodies, dreamed about what I’d do with them if I ever got up the nerve. My eyes might have roamed everywhere, but I was always covert about it. I couldn’t risk having anyone discover my secret. Fag shit would stop being a joke and start being way too real if they realized I really was a fag.
I was good enough at baseball but not great, and today was no different. After practice, Coach held me back to yell at me for goofing off. I hadn’t thought he was paying attention to me during practice, since Thumper had showed up to visit like he said. I thought Coach would’ve been distracted by catching up on old times with my cousin, but no, he seemed to be supervising us even more closely than usual. I hadn’t been goofing off intentionally. I was just preoccupied with watching Chris, our team captain, in action. Was he ever fine! Yes, the same Chris who was also now my step-brother. Dang, our parents getting married to each other really complicated things.
Getting my ass chewed by Coach should have been embarrassing, especially in front of Thumper, but we only had one game left and graduation was next week, which meant I didn’t pay much attention to what Coach was yelling. He was fine-looking too, and his “angry face” looked kinda like an “orgasm face,” so I kept drifting into sexual fantasies about him even as he yelled at me. Blah-blah-blah—Tony, get your head outta your ass out there. Hmm, I wondered if that’s what Coach would look like if I sucked his dick until he shot his load. Yadda-yadda-yadda—Tony, keep your head in the game. I bet Coach would make exactly that same expression if I rimmed his ass good.
Not that I had any experience with sucking dick or rimming ass. I’d seen those things done in videos, of course, but I was an eighteen-year-old virgin with zero practical experience at that particular game. Sucking dick and rimming ass seemed nasty, but the guys in the videos sure seemed to enjoy giving and getting it!
As a result of getting yelled at by Coach, I was late hitting the showers. Most of my teammates were still there when I jogged into the locker room, but they were clearing out pretty fast. Soon it was just Chris, Peter, and me. Chris and Peter were more than enough to make my nuts ache. A chance to see them naked in the showers? Yum! Only through supreme self-control did I manage to keep from throwing a massive hard-on. Both of those guys—their jock-bodies were practically perfect. Fuck, they were hot!
Chris said something like, “See ya at home, Tony,” as he trotted past, leaving the shower area just as I walked in. Damn!—I’d missed getting my daily good, long look at him naked and had to make do with a quick glance. That left just Peter and me. Peter, with his movie-star handsome face, mischievous smile, chocolate hair and eyes, and the cutest, tightest little ass. He also had a great dick—even soft, it looked sort of long but not too thick. His chest was what really got to me, however. His pecs were muscular, hard, and beautifully shaped. His whole body was firm and toned, right down to his tight abs.
My fascination with his torso revealed my desires. I didn’t realize, but I must have stared too long. I looked up, and Peter was watching me. Fuck, he’d caught me staring at him!—Definitely fag shit. I panicked. What should I do?
Peter gave me a sly little half-smile and acted like he didn’t mind me looking. He just kept soaping up his hard chest and shoulders, facing me, making no attempt to hide himself from me. In fact, it seemed like he was showing off, because no way did his chest need that much lathering. Too, his dick was growing. No doubt about it—he was getting hard. I already had a semi, but seeing Peter’s dick chubbing up like that tipped me over the line and I couldn’t stop myself from heading toward a major, throbbing hard-on.
I don’t know where I got the nerve to do it—maybe I should have thought this through more, but sometimes a guy just has to take a shot. No plan; just action. I walked over to Peter and turned on the shower next to his.
“I’ve been wondering about you,” he said, so quietly I barely heard him over the shower noise.
I amazed myself by having the balls to do it. I’d seen a couple of porn stars do this in a gym shower scene in a video I downloaded. I wrapped my hand around my pole and stroked. I looked right at Peter, feasting my eyes on his beautiful face while slowly fisting my dick, practically daring him with my stare. Peter took hold of himself and started slow-stroking his meat as well. Fuck, yeah!—This was my fantasy come true! I kept jacking myself while I admired Peter’s hot eighteen-year-old body. We kept stroking and staring at each other.
Peter looked me right in the eye and said, “I don’t mind. If you wanna do more than just look and beat off, go ahead.” I screwed up my courage—deep breath—and figured what the heck. Graduation was just a few days away, or else I’ve never have deviated from the nobody finds out I’m a fag plan. I reached out and grasped his pole. He grinned a little wider and put his hand on my rod too. I tested the heft of his hard-on with a tentative stroke, comparing it to what mine felt like when I jacked off. I couldn’t believe I finally had the balls to do this!
That’s when it happened.
“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!”
Peter and I snapped our heads toward the entrance. Coach! Our baseball coach was standing right there, gaping at us! Even more humiliating, there was Thumper looking over Coach’s shoulder, and he saw the whole thing too! Both Peter and I had massive hard-ons and we obviously had our hands wrapped around each other’s dicks. We were so screwed! We yanked our hands away, like that would do any good, and tried to hide our erections with our hands.
Coach bellowed, “Well? Answer me.”
Peter and I were both scared shit-less. Needless to say, my dick wilted instantly! I didn’t know what to say or do. I mean—fuck!—practically the moment I touched Peter for the first time ever, Coach caught me—us—doing fag shit. What made it weirder was that Coach was sizzling-hot himself. He was about thirty-two and had an awesome build. I’d fantasized about him plenty of times. Even now, he looked so fucking sexy in his tee-shirt and black shorts. His hairy chest and the big bulge in his shorts made me drool. I wondered if he’d ever noticed me checking him out.
“Fuck!—Coach! Please, Coach, give us a break,” Peter begged. “Don’t tell our parents!”
Shit! I hadn’t thought of that. I’d been so focused on Coach and Thumper catching us, I hadn’t realized the larger problem. Coach would tell my parents, maybe the whole team and Chris too. Soon my whole family and the whole school would know. Hell, Coach might even kick us off the team, right before the final game! My parents would be so pissed! This would be the biggest family scandal ever!
Coach just scowled at Peter.
“We’ll work in your yard—we’ll mow your lawn, wash your car—we’ll do whatever you say. Anything!” Peter pleaded.
Peter was really overdoing it. I was about to shush him before he had us promising to make dinner for Coach every night and do his laundry too. Sure, Coach really had us by the nuts, but Peter was practically babbling.
I caught Thumper’s attention over Coach’s shoulder. Thumper, help! I thought at him, hoping he’d pick up on it. I was desperate enough to hope Thumper might hear my thoughts telepathically and come to my rescue. If Thumper could say or do something to help get us out of trouble with Coach, I’d figure out a way to buy Thumper’s silence later.
Thumper gave me a little wink-grin-nod combo. Then he looked at the back of Coach’s head.
“Well ...” Coach trailed off for a second. Normally, he was a nice guy—he wasn’t the vindictive type. But if he wanted to, he could get us in a lot of trouble. He might even cause Peter to lose his baseball scholarship to State in the fall!
“Please, Coach,” Peter begged, “just tell us what you want—we’ll do anything you say! Just don’t tell anyone. Please?”
“It’s okay, Coach. You can tell them,” Thumper said. Had he said it out loud, or in my head?
“Well, ... uh, there is one thing I want ...” Coach trailed off again, like he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. His expression looked kind of odd.
“What?” said Peter. “Tell us!”
“I ... want ... to watch you two keep doing what you’re doing. I want to watch you two get it on.”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard! I hadn’t expected that. I glanced at Thumper, and he just winked at me. Was I supposed to know what that meant or something?
I had this little fantasy running through my mind about Coach making Peter and me suck each other off while he watched. I blinked. I couldn’t get that fantasy out of my head, couldn’t make myself think about anything else. I looked at Peter, and he looked at me. His eyes were hungry, like he had the same scene running through his mind too. My cock was hardening again, and fast. The thought of doing something sexual with Peter while Coach watched?—Definitely turning me on.
I looked over at Coach. His expression—yeah, he was definitely aroused by the idea of watching us.
I looked at Thumper again. Sure, he was way over there by the shower entrance behind Coach, but it sure felt like he was closer, like somehow he was inside my head with me. This tickly-tingly feeling ran through my head. Was that what telepathy felt like? I was starting to enjoy the feeling when suddenly I had this one compelling thought in my head: Peter.
I looked at Peter again. Man, it was getting so hard to separate the fantasy running through my head from reality. I stepped closer, pulled Peter to me, and kissed him right on the lips. Peter didn’t seem surprised at all because he kissed me back, and his tongue poked into my mouth. Yeah, this fantasy was coming true! If Coach wanted a show, we’d give him one he’d never forget.
This was my first real kiss, aside from making out with random chicks on dates or playing truth-or-dare and shit like that. My first guy-kiss. I knew how to kiss but, other than beating my own meat, I was a virgin. I know, I know—an eighteen-year-old virgin? It was pathetic, but true. I wasn’t interested in doing anything with girls except some lightweight camouflage dating and I hadn’t worked up the courage to approach a guy until that very day. My first time was sure going to be an interesting one: I was making it with another guy in the shower room while my coach and my cousin watched!
Peter and I kissed deeply. My dick burned like hot steel. What should I do next? I wrapped my arms around Peter and hugged him tightly. Our chests pressed together; our cocks were caught between our bodies. My dick felt like it was oozing pre-cum, but I couldn’t tell for sure under the shower spray.
I felt something being taken from me, a sense of shame being replaced by a feeling of freedom, as if my most private self was being released into the world. All my fear and hesitation vanished quickly; in its place was an awareness of exhilarating power—my cock, my ass, my body could excite guys as hot as Peter and Coach, could make them want to do things with me that I’d only imagined or seen in videos. I embraced the lust running through me, and I felt suddenly free and ... well, kinda slutty.
Peter nibbled on my ear lobe. No one had ever done that to me before, and the sensation drove me crazy. He murmured, “You’re so fucking hot, Tony. I wanna taste your dick.”
I was a little confused: should feeling this slutty embarrass me ... or liberate me? I’d worry about that later. Right then, I sighed, half-closing my eyes, and enjoyed the feeling as Peter nibbled at my neck, and I gave a little more of myself to this ... this thing, whatever it was, that we were doing. This wasn’t just fag shit anymore. This was me. This was Peter. This was Peter and me starting to have sex together.
“Oh,” Peter whispered, “oh, fuck,” his tone softening, as if he recognized that my reserve had finally given way. Or maybe I was hearing his reserve crumbling. Maybe we were feeling the same thing.
I turned my head and kissed my way down Peter’s neck, then I leaned down and ran my tongue back and forth across his chest. I slid it across his hard nipples; I flicked my tongue at them and gently sucked on them. Peter moaned.
I felt myself go onto some sort of instinctive autopilot. My hands moved on their own as they ran over Peter’s body. His body responded to my touch, ardently, and I responded to the there-ness of his body and his obvious desire. Peter’s cock swung fully hard in the shower spray, as did mine. Were we really doing this? What the fuck? This was a life-altering moment, happening in a way I definitely never planned.
Peter had said he wanted to taste my dick, but I was the one bending. I worked lower, lapping and kissing at his firm stomach, exploring each row of hard abdominal muscles. I meant to work down to his navel, then work my way back up, because I still wasn’t sure about cock-sucking—it still seemed nasty-dirty, even though we were in the showers—but I couldn’t resist his dick. Peter’s manhood was right there, hard and throbbing, the head of it bumping against my neck. I looked at it; it had some kind of magnetic pull, urging me closer. I couldn’t draw myself away from it. I had to have it.
I dropped to my knees and grasped his cock. Definitely a life-altering moment. I did it without stopping to think or worry. I did it for Peter. I gently stroked his shaft and fondled his nuts. Peter moaned with pleasure. I looked over at Coach. He had his shirt off, and the whistle he wore on a cord lay half-buried in his chest hair. Coach was watching our every move. The bulge in his crotch had grown tremendously. He slowly squeezed it through his shorts.
The word Peter filled my head, and my attention was tugged irresistibly back to Peter’s cock. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his cock-head. He gasped. His dick-helmet was warm and pulsing. Yeah, no matter whether it seemed nasty or not, I wanted this. No turning back. I ran my tongue around the piss-slit, investigating the taste of his pre-cum under the shower spray, and then wrapped my lips around the head. I was nervous—I really wanted this to happen, but I had no idea how to suck a cock. I’d never sucked one before and no one had ever sucked on mine, so I had nothing except my imagination to draw on. Sure, the mechanics of mouth-on-penis seemed straightforward, but being confronted with a real, live hard-on waiting to be sucked intimidated me.
Something colored my vision for just a moment, making me think of the red and gold lights I’d seen in the nightclub men’s room last night. I briefly wondered how that light show was appearing here in the shower room, like maybe was I having a flashback, and then—
Suddenly I knew exactly what to do. I felt like I’d been sucking cock for years and was an expert.
I pulled more of his dick between my lips. Peter moaned happily, pure pleasure. I worked my lips and tongue down his tool, loving the way it pulsed in my mouth. Peter’s cock was long-ish, but not too thick—the perfect size for sucking. How did I know that? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I needed to keep sucking my way down his pole until I worked all the way to the base. I nearly made it, but had to stop when my nose was still an inch away from in his dark pubes.
While I’d often fantasized about being dominated during sex, I’d always thought I’d be the one in control during my first time—I’d be the one to decide where, when, how far. But I finally saw that I just had to let go, just let it happen. I had to trust that my body would know what to do, now that I’d finally given myself what I’d always wanted. I took a deep breath and gave myself completely to the hard, pulsing invader in my mouth, and I did everything it demanded. I pulled back a bit off the monster that felt like it was poking around my tonsils, as I struggled to clear some air space to make myself heard. The guttural, urgent whine that rolled out of my throat carried the complete story—my surrender, my pleasure—and I didn’t care who heard.
I ran my lips all the way back up Peter’s dick. His masculine scent overloaded my thoughts with desire. I explored his hard shaft with my tongue, eager to map every vein, every inch of his dick-skin, as if I knew exactly how he wanted his cock sucked. I was all over his manhood. While I mouthed it, I reached around for his tight butt-cheeks and kneaded them, thinking about how Peter sure had a fine ass!
“Aw, fuck,” Peter breathed as he pumped his dick into my mouth. He fucked my face as much as I sucked his cock. I glanced over at Coach. His dick tented his shorts, and he rubbing it slowly with two fingers, back and forth, teasing himself, his face a mask of pure lust. Yeah, Coach was definitely horny, and definitely enjoying the show Peter and I were giving him!
I sucked enthusiastically on Peter. I fingered his crack. It didn’t take me long to work a finger into his hot, hungry hole. Weren’t asses supposed to seem nasty-dirty?—I didn’t care anymore. Peter didn’t object one bit either, so I finger-fucked him. My head bobbed up and down on his pole while my finger pressed in and out of his ass. Peter figured out how to alternate thrusting into my mouth and pushing himself back on my finger.
As soon as I stuck a second finger deep in his tight little ass, Peter’s cock throbbed with renewed intensity. He moaned loudly, lost in ecstasy. “Unh! Gonna cum, Tony. Gonna—Aaah!” Right then he blew his load between my lips. I sucked it down. The taste of his hot spunk was ... not what I was expecting, but swallowing felt like the right thing to do. Spurt after spurt of his thick cream burst into my mouth, coating my tongue. It was warm and salty and I decided I could get used to the taste. I kinda liked it. I sucked on him hard for more. I kept finger-fucking him right up to the end. “Fuck, dude!” Peter panted.
Meanwhile, Coach had his shorts and jockstrap down at his knees, his big, impressively thick cock out, and he was stroking it.
My own dick was stone-hard and throbbing. I felt like I should stand up, so I did. Peter’s eyes were still orgasm-dazed. I put my hands on his shoulders, with a little gentle downward pressure so he’d get the idea. He sank to his knees and took hold of my cock and guided it to his mouth. He sucked on my cock, my first time for anybody doing that, and I loved the way it felt—fucking loved it! I loved that Peter was the one doing it to me too. If this was what fag shit was like, I loved it! How could any guy ever go back to just jacking off again after feeling a really good blow-job?
After a couple of minutes, Peter stopped and looked up into my eyes. “I want you to fuck me, Tony.” I’d been thinking exactly the same thing at the same moment.
I looked at Coach and Thumper. Coach didn’t seem to notice. He kept staring at us as he slow-fisted his rod. Thumper, though, tossed me a little foil-wrapped lubed condom from his pocket. I knew in theory how to put on a rubber from that sex education seminar last fall. Now was the time to put it into practice. I tore open the package and, after fumbling a little, unrolled the condom over my throbbing cock. There—that was easier than I thought.
Peter knelt on the tiles, on all fours. I got down behind him, between his legs, and positioned the head of my dick against his hole. I pushed. At first, he was too tight. I couldn’t get my rock-hard cock inside his ass. He pushed back. I pushed again. Finally, my rod-head slipped in, along with an inch of shaft. Peter tensed, and I held really still, like I somehow knew I should, to let him get used to my dick in his ass. Holding still also let me get used to the thrill of being inside him, the heat and tightness of his ass, or else I’d have cum in five seconds.
I felt Peter’s body relax and his hole loosen up, so I pushed in a little more of my dick. Peter moaned. Coach moved closer for a better view, stroking his pole slowly while he watched me mount Peter. Coach’s stare looked hungry for more, so I wanted to keep putting on a good show for him.
I slowly pushed my dick farther up Peter’s ass, then a little more, and soon I was all the way in. My dick felt great buried inside him because Peter was so nice and tight! I pulled back, halfway out. I pushed my dick back in, faster this time. In and out, again. I was figuring this fag shit out. Fucking was easy!—And I loved it! Why hadn’t I worked up the balls to try this sooner? I fucked Peter a little faster with each thrust. Soon, I was pounding him good and hard. I couldn’t stop moaning because it felt so fucking good. Peter grunted and moaned like crazy too, meeting my every stroke.
I shifted into high gear. By then Peter was used to my cock and hungry for it, so I dicked him without mercy under the warm shower spray. My heart pounded in my chest as my cock pounded in and out of his ass. The need to screw his ass drowned out everything else in my head, and I was lost in fucking him. I’d never experienced anything so intense and so awesome in my entire life!
Coach beat his meat faster and faster. He had eased closer, standing now just outside the spray from the shower. He moaned and threw his head back as he watched me go wild fucking Peter’s ass. I watched Coach’s jack-off show for a moment, but my attention kept getting pulled back to Peter. Peter: the word kept reverberating in little red and gold flickers through my head, keeping me focused on him. Peter wanted—needed—my dick. Peter kept shoving himself right back against my cock. Peter wanted me to fuck him. Everything was about Peter. I gave him the fucking he craved. I felt like we’d been fucking forever and would keep on fucking forever, and that was fine by me.
Peter gasped. “Oh!” That was the only noise he made, but it rang in my head, so quiet and yet so full of need that it nearly broke my heart even as it made my cock twitch up his ass. He froze, every muscle rigid, as if afraid to move. Then his whole body shuddered. His ass clamped around my cock. Was something wrong? What was going on with him? His body shuddered again. “Oh!” he gasped again, and I knew he was cumming: cumming naked in the showers with me, cumming with Coach and Thumper watching, cumming with my dick up his ass. Peter’s body shuddered and shuddered and suddenly nearly went limp before he managed to catch himself. I felt triumphant from having brought him to such a powerful finish.
I thought Peter might pull away now that he’d gotten off, but instead he squeezed his ass around my cock, wanting to finish what he started. I kept pumping away. Less than a minute later—oh, fuck!—I felt the tingling start. I felt my nuts draw up and my cock throb harder than ever. “Ah—gonna—” was all the warning I had time to give. Then, like a lightning strike, I was cumming, cumming up Peter’s ass, cumming so hard I saw little stars, cumming doing this fag shit, cumming harder than I’d ever cum in any jack-off session in my entire life. I spewed so much spunk, I bet I filled the whole rubber nearly to bursting with my jizz. Popping my nut with my dick up Peter’s ass definitely made me cum longer—harder—than ever before.
Once I could see again, I looked over at Coach. He’d turned, in profile now, and Thumper knelt on the tiles in front of him. Coach was getting a blow-job from Thumper! Fuck!—Coach was letting a guy blow him! Fuck!—my cousin Thumper was blowing a dude! Coach and Thumper were doing fag shit together too! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Peter and I watched them go at it while we came down from our orgasms and our breathing downshifted to normal. Then Coach pulled out of Thumper’s mouth. Coach started to beat his meat like crazy as he turned toward Peter and me again. With his shorts and jockstrap around his ankles, he shuffled just inside the shower spray range. The water wet his shorts and shoes as he pointed his fucking hose at us and howled and shot his load all over both of us. I couldn’t get over it—Coach creamed all over both of us! The feeling of his hot cum smacking against my skin felt awesome beyond belief.
Coach shuffled a couple of steps backward. He blinked at us. He pulled up his shorts quickly and left, looking like he was kind of embarrassed about the whole thing. I sure wasn’t. I’d never done anything so fucking hot in all my life! I made a mental note to let Coach know we were cool, next time I saw him.
“Man, that ...” Peter said as we soaped up and cleaned Coach’s spunk off our bodies. We were alone in the showers again. Where did Thumper get to? I’d worry about that later. “That was ...” Peter trailed off and just shook his head. We’d done fag shit together and loved it. He couldn’t think of how to describe the experience, so he just grinned at me.
“Fuck, yeah,” I totally agreed.
“You doing anything next weekend?” Peter looked my naked body up and down with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“What you got in mind?” I grinned back. Next weekend would be after final exams, after our final game, and the day after graduation. A whole week away.
“I have in mind camping, and sticking my dick in your tight ass,” he said.
“Fuck, yeah,” I agreed, nodding and grinning probably like an idiot. But how could I not after the most mind-blowing orgasm ever?
Peter’s grin widened. “Maybe we should invite Coach, too?”
“Excellent idea,” I concurred. But I didn’t want to wait a whole week now that I’d found out what sex was like. I needed a plan that would get me laid again before then. Bingo! “In the meantime, why don’t you come by my house tomorrow afternoon. We can hang out by the pool. My parents are gone the whole weekend.” Then, just to make sure he got the idea, I added, “Bring condoms.“
I didn’t think it was possible, but the gleam in Peter’s eye got even more wicked. “I’ll be there,” he said.