With the Homecoming Game on Friday, Charlie wanted to win. Charlie's our quarterback, a cocky bastard. He kept me after everyone else had gone to the showers so we could work on our pass routes. My name is Kirk. I'm a wide receiver. I've been gay since last week, when I fucked my friend, Tony--and watched him take a big cop's dick up his ass. Tony and I have gotten together since: every time I fuck his tight little ass. That's all we've ever done sexually. But no one on the team knows I'm "that way." Charlie ran me ragged. My legs felt like custard by the time he said we were finished. Taking off his helmet, Charlie wiped sweat from his flowing black hair. Not as much sweat as I had; my uniform and pads clung to my wet body. I ran for the showers. Charlie stopped me. "Let's hit the weights. You'll need strong legs this weekend." At 6-foot-4, Charlie is four inches taller than I am. I have more muscle, but Charlie's well-defined form has a lot of power in it. I think he’s 19, maybe held back a year when he was younger. I didn't want to cross him. I gazed up at him like he was crazy. He flashed his bright smile, the one that melted students and teachers alike. I shrugged beneath my pads. The locker room had cleared out already. I removed my pads and uniform. Charlie urged me to hurry. He ferried me into the weight room wearing only our jockstraps, telling me not to worry, he had a key to the weight room. He locked us in. I tried not to watch his lean body as Charlie did some leg presses. His black jock framed the tight globes of his perfect ass, and when the weight came down, his knees fell toward his chest, exposing the black hairs in his crack. I tried desperately not to notice the sinews in his toned legs as they pushed back. My jockstrap was white and nearly transparent with sweat. It took all my concentration to keep my five inches flaccid. Charlie stood, jumping to keep his legs loose. His bulging crotch bounced. As he stood beside me, I watched my legs pumping as I pressed. For good measure, I had Charlie increase the amount of weight. He seemed impressed as he watched me, grinning like a junkie. We moved on to our hamstrings. I could barely walk now. Charlie sat in the machine, his legs spread in the stirrups. He brought his feet together. The cords in his legs rose up like mountains as he contracted his muscles. He finished and looked up at me. Unfortunately I was staring at his crotch. "You seen my new car, dude?" he said. No, I hadn't, I said. I watched his face as he talked. His thin lips pulled back in a sneer. "Oh, I think you have." His voice was smoky, like sausage. "Probably," I said. "In the parking lot." "No, no. How ‘bout Sanders Road? Last Saturday, dude." Sanders Road, last Saturday? That was where the cop had pulled us over, Jimmy, Tony, and me. Jimmy, me, then the cop had fucked Tony on the side of the road. Near the end, we had moved to the middle of the road as a Camaro drove by... My face burned in embarrassment. Charlie, my quarterback and team captain, snickered. "How's Tony's shithole?" "Shut up," I spat at him. "What would Coach say if he knew there was a fairy on the team?" I stared at the floor. "Or Hakim and the boys? Hmm." The sweat on my body turned to ice. I slinked away from him. "Get over here, Kirk." Tired from the extended practice, I didn't resist. I stood in front of my nearly naked, 19-year-old quarterback with my hands clasped over my crotch. He relaxed, spread-eagle in the machine. One hand rubbed his growing bulge. It looked pretty big, a little smaller than my own eight inches. Charlie said he had broken up with his girlfriend last week. "Bitch told everyone I hit her. You believe that, Kirk? Now none of the other cunts will go out with me." Charlie stroked the granite mounds of his chest with his free hand. "I need some relief, Kirk. You're queer, so get on your knees." Charlie released his cock from its restraint. It bounced to a position leaning a little to the right, seven thick, unbending inches of it. I hesitated. Charlie struck the padded seat of the workout station angrily. "I'll tell Coach, Kirky. Now suck my dick." He waved his manhood, as a threat or maybe an invitation. I decided I did not want anyone to know. And, after all, Charlie was attractive, with broad swimmer's shoulders and a tapered waist and a light dusting of hairs over his sweating chest. I knelt. Charlie laughed as he struck my chin and cheeks with his hot dick. It burned my skin. Charlie was cocky and possibly violent, and I had never done this before. I was scared, yet I felt blood rushing to my crotch. My jockstrap filled with cock. I clutched Charlie's thighs, spread as they were in the machine. Veins protruded; they were like a map, leading me to the throbbing flesh and hairy ball sac. Charlie rubbed the leaking tip against my dry lips. He teased my lips with the soft flesh. The tip of my tongue emerged and tasted the salty fluid beading out of his piss-slit. Then he pulled his dick away and told me to lick his balls. They were moist and smelled of exercise. My tongue bathed the wrinkly skin. Then I took one walnut into my mouth and sucked. Charlie groaned and his body jerked; I guessed he liked it. I sucked on one ball, then the other. I tried ingesting them both at once, but they were too massive. Saliva dripped from my mouth and chin. Charlie grabbed my head and shoved my face into his musky scrotum. The odor overwhelmed me. He rubbed himself against my unshaved face for a while as I gently licked the base of his shaft. He pushed me away and held his dick straight out toward my face. "Now suck this," he rasped. I folded my lips around his cockhead. My tongue circled it as I sucked, just on the tip. Charlie moaned. I saw him rubbing his hairy chest, pinching a nipple, hard. I munched on the velvet skin of his young prick. My own dick roared to its full length. I was actually enjoying my first blackmail blowjob. He grew impatient. Both his hands now held my face. He shoved me down on his stick. As my nose pressed into his moist crotch, I gagged. Thankfully, he pushed my head back. I tried to breathe then, but he crammed his cock right back in. My jaw ached as he fucked my face. "All right, bitch, get ready." When he was done, he clutched my face to his pubic hair and pumped his stuff straight down the back of my throat. I swallowed what I could, but the thick warmness kept coming. I choked. Charlie didn't let up; he even chuckled at my discomfort as his orgasm rolled on and on. When his cock finally stopped twitching, Charlie let go of my head. I coughed and coughed, spitting his jism onto my stomach and jockstrap. I looked up at Charlie's narrow lips and green eyes. I desperately wanted him to kiss me, to make me feel okay about the rough facefucking. He curled his upper lip and sneered as he stood and strode off to the showers without saying a word. Two days later, Charlie accosted me in the showers after practice. The tall quarterback looked down at me. He said, "I need you Saturday night." I froze, almost dropping my soap. "I have plans." "And I have info Coach wouldn't like very much." "I'm sure you can get some slut to go out with you, Charlie." "This isn't for me. It's a party, dude, for my brother. You like parties, don't you?" I said nothing. "Good. I'll pick you up at nine." "I'll borrow my parents' car." "Great. Oh, dude, what kind of music do you like?" “For what?” I asked. He said, “For the entertaining.” To Be Continued...