A.N.: Hey guys, I'm back with a oneshot that has been a while in the works.
Warning: This is graphic goodness, maybe more so than Vindicated for those of you who've read that as well. If you can't handle man on man action, don't hesitate to press the back button right now.
Team Captain
Drinking makes me bold, that much I can say with utmost clarity. Everything else is less than clear. How I ended up drunk out of my skull I can't remember or, for that matter, when I passed out. The clock on the side of the wall, a nice ornate one depicting a sun with beady eyes glares down at me, reading a time in the wee hours of the night.
The only reason I can see anything is because one of the walls in the room is a huge glass window and the moon is shining painfully bright tonight, illuminating the mess of a teenager's party while the parents were away. Shaking my head and rubbing at my sleep-encrusted eyes helps to jog my memory. All of my football team is gone from our team captain's house, with the obvious exception of me. When everyone had left, I'm not too sure, but hours ago the music had been just as deafening as the laughter, pushing up the rafters of Caleb's parent's mansion-like estate.
Like everything about the house I'm in Caleb is also quite grand, standing at well over six feet tall and packing tons of muscle. It's no wonder he was nominated to be our captain. But, what I like most about the guy is his astounding ability to bring people together. His charisma is absolutely terrifying yet I can think of nothing more heavenly about him, even after knowing him as my slightly younger best friend since sixth grade. Now, in our last year of high school, he still captures my attention with his empowering speeches just before we hit the field to play, which strikes me as odd seeing as I should be used to him. But, he's unpredictable, so how could I be?
I've always had a bit of a crush on him. Though going through puberty had only intensified this crush to a lust I should've been feeling for someone other than my very close friend. Still, I couldn't help but be periodically excited and aroused by someone like him, whether it was just after we'd won a game and he'd be sweaty yet gleaming with pride or when we were younger, high school freshmen, doing stupid truth or dare games at parties. The only time I might've hated him a bit was when he'd gotten his first girlfriend.
I don't believe I'd ever been as jealous as I had that day in my entire life. When he walked away with her instead of walking away with me.
But, the girl hadn't left much of an impression on him. He's like a sun in the sense that he burns the brightest and shines over everyone else. At least it's that way I've always envisioned him. His girls, they never lasted long, each one taking their place by his side for only a few months at a time, at most. Right now, the day after his eighteenth birthday, he's once again single after having shed yet another girl the week before. Some might just call him a player; I call him a whore, but only good-naturedly.
Me, I never got myself a girlfriend. Never bothered, even though I could potentially swing both ways without conflict. But, why would I when I was in love with him? When the only one I wanted to hold me tight was him?
I could hear him dreaming from my place opposite him on the couch. His exhales sounded like the slight wheezes a cat might make while purring and it was their gradual build-up to a low moan that made me re-evaluate my position.
This is why, watching him snore softly, peacefully, in his La-Z-Boy that I developed a rather devious plan. The fractals of moonlight lit him up and caused shadows to creep across the room like demons. His upright position in the chair was made out to be even more uncomfortable in the light than it probably was. I couldn't help but marvel at how he managed to pass out in such a way that would doubtlessly leave a lasting impression on his neck, and not a good one.
At first I crept up to him highly alert of the creaks in the floorboards beneath the carpeting. The closer I got to him the more the moon seemed to show me and soon, kneeling beside his chair, I noticed a very prominent part of him that explained to me the moans I heard every so often.
The large tent in his sweatpants holds me captivated for several moments as I wonder just what he's possibly thinking about subconsciously that has him this worked up. I can't last for long though: after scrutinizing his pants in the moonshine I tug timidly at the perfectly bowtied drawstring. It comes loose noiselessly and with it my resolve weakens to breaking point. Before I can help myself I'm cautiously inching his pants down, exposing tanned skin that gets lighter the farther I travel, until I reach a point where I have to lift them and slide them over his member. Then he's bare to me, just as I've fantasized about for years.
The first thing I notice, vainly, is how close we are in size, but only girth wise. His cock is a good inch longer: perhaps the gods that made him decided to reflect his height in comparison to mine, me standing at only 5'8". In its current fully erect state I can make out the blood rushing to the mushroomed tip, veins well-defined in the luminosity of the moon.
Though I know what I like, I haven't any experience going down on another man before. It has forever intrigued me and I've often thought about it, especially when it comes to Caleb. His manhood in front of me beckons me to reach out and touch, which I did, shakily, only after gathering much courage. Being in his house, doing things that I know I shouldn't be doing made me fearful and touching his cock with the tips of my fingers only fried more of my nerves. But, this electricity I stirred within myself is so worth pursuing.
I gather enough wits to fully grasp his responsive organ, softly and hesitantly at first. It's warm and stiff, just as my own is held in the confines of my jeans. He jerks a little as I apply more pressure with my hand and I freeze like a deer would in danger, wary of his flaccid breathing. Soon his light snoring persists, the only noise in the night besides my own heavy breathing. I take it as a green light and begin to stroke his erection lightly, almost teasingly, moving the palm of my hand up and down. These touches certainly affect him; the moans previously from his dream intensify and I grow bolder, wanting to add more to the sensation I'm giving him.
His balls I have neglected until this point. Instead of groping them with my other hand – its attached to the armrest of the chair and helping me to keep myself steady above him – I lean down and tentatively lick a long trail of saliva across his skin. He tastes delicious. Like a man should.
I can't help myself at this point; I have to have him. Whatever innocent plan to just masturbate to the sight of him has evaporated and I find myself lathering up his balls with the full brunt of my tongue. All the while he groans deeply, happily encased in sleep. The pleasured sounds I receive only help to egg me on and I remove my hand from stroking him to place it on the other armrest, giving me leverage above him. If he should jerk awake now I would be so screwed.
I flick my tongue out to taste the shiny beads of pre-cum on him, testing the waters. I know I have to take it slow less he wake up to see me working him over so I take my time sliding my outstretched tongue up and down his shaft, soaking it so it gleams. He's getting loud with his contentment of my actions so I hurry to take the head of his beast in my mouth, feeling the pulsations around my lips reverberate down my throat. I have to stretch my jaw to take in as much of him as I possibly can, but even then as I slide my mouth lower I can't take all of him without gagging and disrupting the still of the night.
My blonde bangs tickle his flesh as I methodically take him in from tip to base, trying to reach new lengths each time. His meat twitches with raw power, a quality I see from him at every football practice we attend. Though, this power is far different, far more personal. Something few people have felt in their mouth.
By this time I'm shamelessly sucking him, gently at first, then building to a rigorous allegro that leaves me inhaling through my nose deeply to keep from becoming light-headed. His moans, shattering the silence, flood my ears as I drive him closer and closer to his unavoidable peak. I pull off of his flared head to examine him as he pants, still blissfully oblivious to my presence. His tip is an angry violet from my administrations.
I struggle to get my own heavy panting under control, heaving hot air over Caleb's throbbing cock. He still makes little sounds in front of me, whimpers that urge me to return to my previous task of blowing him. I oblige greedily, threading his length back into me quickly and readily taking in the small spurted amounts of white hot cream.
All of a sudden my hair is yanked and I find myself impaled on Caleb's cock as he gasps and curses above me while I gag below him. His grip on my head stings as he rips me from his prick violently and I stare up into his bluish green eyes, terrified.
"K-Kiefer?" He grunts, loosening his maniacal grip on my head. "What the hell are you doing?!"
I rush to apologize, intending to beg for forgiveness but am surprised when he seems to relax and stroke my blonde hairline at the base of my neck. Like a team captain reassuring his team mates.
He appears to finally come to a realization of my position angled towards pleasuring him. "God, I can't believe you Kiefer. What the hell were you thinking?" His speech is slurred with the inklings of morning and, more than likely, the lingering effects of alcohol.
I swallow thickly, his salty juices still fresh in my mouth to remind me what had happened. Whimsically I tell him in earnest, "I-I was t-thinking how I'd never get another chance like t-this." I make a vague gesture towards the part of him that begs for my attention.
His eyes are wide in the light of the moon and his hand hasn't left the back of my head in disgust yet. I wait for him to inflict pain on me like any normal guy would, shutting my eyes because I can't summon enough bravery to even look at him.
"Then…continue."
"Continue?" I repeat stupidly.
"Yeah," he sighs with a full body shudder and tugs me back towards his length as a final confirming act. I have to wet my lips as I process his intentions and only after I firmly get a hold of myself do I take him in my mouth again.
I begin slowly, still unsure of this new development. Caleb sucks in a huge gulp of stale air as I begin to swirl my tongue around his shaft and I listen as he grows more vocal with every new trick I oversee. Even though I'd learnt my skills only from watching porn he seems quite satisfied with me. I hear my name muttered under his breath, along with other dirty words that I wish he'd say loud enough for me to hear clearly. It doesn't take long for him to tense up completely, balls convulsing, fingers gripping at the sides of my head.
When he unloads himself into me I take each shot enthusiastically as I had earlier on in our friendly drinking game. He spurts several times, my mouth filling up with his gooey mousse, some dribbling out onto my chin to land as a stain in the posh red carpets below. He tastes so good, so as he finishes I swirl the last of him around in my mouth, savouring it. I would have to since I figure I'll never get to taste him ever again. After this the best I can hope for will have to be that we're still on speaking terms. It's bound to be awkward between us.
Sitting back on my haunches I concede, "I'm sorry," even though it isn't at all true.
He cups my face in his hand and raises his other hand from my hair and for one second I'm sure he's going to strike me square in the face with the sinewy fist that he raises. But, instead his hand dips under my arm and around my back as he slides his body off of the chair and onto the floor in front of me.
The kiss he gives me ignites the coals in my groin and this time I'm not in a hurry to pull back. I let him lead the kiss and devour me from the inside whilst simultaneously grabbing the underside of my thighs to pull me up into his lap. Pressed against him with my own hard erection I moan when we part our lip lock.
"Come to bed with me," Caleb mutters sensuously into my ear, his hot breath setting fire to every portion of skin it comes into contact with. I whimper feebly in response and allow him to drag me by an elbow to my feet.
We stumble upstairs to his bedroom, him leading like the caption he is. His walls are coated in team posters and other little chunks of sports memorabilia. I have always stopped to marvel at the cool things to be found in his room but now they were the last things on my mind.
I find my shirt being shed and reach for the hem of his, twisting it upwards until where he has to keel over for it to be extracted from his sweat glistened body. Such is the height difference between us.
Before I know what's happening Caleb's pushing me down on his bed, kissing and licking at my chest. I spread my legs subtly for him, trying to encourage his tongue to head down to the tightest part of me. He isn't getting the sly message, so I plainly push his head of hair down to my crotch, indicating my wanton desires.
His shaggy black hair hangs over his forehead but not into his eyes as mine sometimes does. His hair is shorter but I'm still able to grasp it, threading the locks through my fingers and pulling to secure my hold on him as he undoes the fly on my pants.
His hands, though meaty and strong, are shaking as he slides both my boxers and jeans off in one fell swoop. Shaking with fear or anticipation, I can't tell. I just know what I'm feeling in this moment and its closer to the latter. Truthfully, in this instant I don't care what he's feeling towards me; I just never want him to stop.
His first strokes of me are experimental, leaving me anxious to feel the true extent of his love-making. I yank at his hair, firmly, trying to make him realize my tension, my frustration. It takes him a second or two to finally grace my cock with his dark mauve lips. I make to reward him with a throaty moan and a sultry thrust upwards that catches him off guard.
The boy seems to need the encouragement. He moves to situate himself more permanently between my legs, running his tongue tentatively up and down. Perhaps he's deciding if he really wants to do this?
But, before I can wonder about his intentions further, Caleb plops me inside his mouth, lips forming a perfectly executed 'O'. His tongue slithers over the head of my cock, making me tense and cry out softly into my shoulder. I have to actively resist the urge to push his head down for more of this gratifying sensation. Likewise, I try to keep from thrusting until I'm sure he can hold his own.
Like everything else that's appealing about Caleb, he has a luscious way of sucking me off.
I grunt and groan with the effort it takes to keep my load within me. I warn him, continuously, that I am soon to be spent but Caleb is either too occupied in his actions or too happy to see me blow it. Either way, I tremble as I shoot my spunk deep in his throat, causing him to reel back and frenetically cough. Even his choking turns me on to a higher temperature.
He gazes down at me, eyes flicking across the expanse of open and entirely willing body below him. All the while he swallows my salty essence, tongue darting out to make an appearance as he tries to lick away a tiny bit of white film that had dribbled down his chin.
I can't stand the sight of him trying in vain to get the last of me off of him. Without giving much of a forewarning I snake my arm across the back of his neck and bring my face up to give him a broad lick from his chin to his upper lip. He pushes me back down roughly and attacks my open mouth with racy vigour, rubbing our erections together. I'm dying slightly but his is still hard to the touch as I reach down to give him a quick but firm squeeze.
"Fuck, Kiefer," he moans as I apply more pressure to his leaking appendage. "Ugh, I-I just want to take you right now."
"You're drunk; you might not remember this in the morning," I insist as he grapples to hold me down as I struggle against his bonds. He's not thinking straight, literally, and I don't want to take advantage of that. He may be the hottest guy and the object of my lustful desires but he's also my best friend.
"I'm not as drunk as you think," he replies fiercely. "And I'm sure I would remember having a sexy blonde boy in my bed, thank you."
I cease struggling out of shock as he says this and he takes the opportunity to latch onto my neck with his lips, biting the skin there as he fiddles with my hard nubs. My resolve to kick him off me weakens further when he whispers, "At least let me finger you."
I gasp as his fingers trail across my ass and delve into the crease. "W-wait, lube, condom–"
He chuckles and mashes our lips together with a primal growl before I can finish reprimanding him, letting go of my bottom in favour of pushing me flush against his bed again.
He fulfills my need to be sanitary and whips a condom out of his bedside table's drawer to put onto his finger. What he does next surprises me; instead of going straight for his obvious desire he continues to caress my hot rod that's growing once again in an attempt to stay in the game. I try to gauge his expression and come out with something that's between being pensive and nervous. He's slowing down to a standstill. He must be really sobering up quick.
"It's okay," I whisper to him as he blushes, suddenly more aware of our positions with him on top than before. For a guy who'd been so eager just a few seconds ago he's suddenly become quite meek. "It's fine," I firmly tell him again.
He lets loose a shuddered breath which cascades across my cock, helping to stiffen me up to a throbbing mess of hormones. "I'm just thinking…I don't want to hurt you. It does hurt, right?"
I gulp, thinking of all the times I'd fingered myself whilst moaning his name. That sure hadn't hurt, even in the tentative stages. But, would it be different with him prodding me there? No one else had ever gone remotely close to that certain spot. "How should I know? Just...um, try." There's no way I'm passing up this chance. Not with him on top of me.
I take a nervous breath of air as his coated finger circles my puckered ring at a snail's pace, the lube he dumped onto his hand chilly against my hot flesh. Caleb's careful not to delve inside too soon, though he may be going leisurely for his sake more than mine. He uses his other hand to rub up and down my stomach and I play with his hair, glad for the distraction. He begins to sloppily lick at my balls again as the pressure intensifies below and I grit my teeth, half expecting him or I to chicken out at any moment. But, neither of us is willing to be the first to stop. Eventually he pries into me. I envelope his index finger in warmth and tentatively squeeze my butt cheeks together while throwing my head back to hide my growing smirk.
"Is this okay?" He asks quietly as if he's afraid to ruin the moment, moving his finger in and out of me.
Heart racing, I nod and then say confidently, "Add another."
He understands my meaning and tries to stretch me open with two fingers, succeeding after he adds more force than before. This time there's a sharp snap that fades to a dull ache, but it's nothing I haven't felt while doing it to myself. Bedazzling him with a smile I hope that he starts to get ideas in his head to take things further without my approval.
He caresses my stiff member with feather-like lips, opening and drawing me in to meet his tongue. My clawing at the back of his neck helps to pull him down further into my crotch. He's moaning just as freely as I am and the hand previously smoothing over my stomach has left to return to its homeland. He plays with himself, jerking his dick around and fumbling with his bulbous sacks. I almost giggle at the sudden barrage of thoughts that encircle my head. If only the team could see him now, so desperate and horny.
And, for once, not for a female.
He gets himself off again, spraying my legs with his seed and sending me an apologetic look. I throw him a lop-sided grin and stick my tongue out playfully to lick my lips, which serves to excite him further, if possible. By now there's a prevalent smell in the air, the scent of sex, that's driving me closer and closer to another climax. But, even though his fingers just barely brush that spot inside me that brings spots to my vision I feel like I won't be able to let loose again.
"Should I add another finger?" He asks, heaving as he builds up speed, biceps and forearm bulging and quivering.
Grunting I consider. There's going to be a great deal of pain and I won't get off again, that would be almost assured. Unless of course…
"If you do, you're going to have to fuck me."
His eyes widen and glisten with an animalistic light. Now that I've suggested it to him there isn't much of a choice for me to make. I can tell he's already made up his mind. I can feel it too.
I throw my head back and half scream and half whimper as he pushes a third digit in briefly before extracting it again. There are tears on my cheeks but when they got there I don't know.
"You sure?"
"Yes!" He still looks sceptical. "Again! Don't you dare stop this time," I threaten and he snakes the final preparatory appendage in once more. I bite down hard but try to take the advice on a gay forum I was reading and relax myself. It's impossible though to get completely relaxed doing something like this for the first time. My heart is pounding and I'm sweating more now than during yesterday's football game.
His fingers push past many rings of tight muscle, meticulously moving in and out, setting a steady pace that doesn't falter. Swallowing and calling his name softly he finally pulls out and asks what I can only hope is his final question, "Ready?"
Grunting I just nod my head and he positions himself, hands guiding his shaft after he smears on a thick sheen of lubricant. As an afterthought I add, "Go slow. I don't want something to t-tear."
My stuttering at the end of that thought gets his attention and he gently pokes the tip at my entrance. I'm glad that Caleb's bed has a whole plethora of pillows and that my ass is up in the air or else his next move would've been questionable.
He pushes the tip through and I suck in until my lungs are full of sex-air. He grunts and keeps his eyes on my face to gauge my reactions. After frantically bobbing my head for him to go further he starts to ease himself in as far as my butt will allow him.
My ass is very receptive today. He slides about halfway inside before he starts to touch a part of me his fingers had only grazed beforehand. I let rip a high-pitched squeal laced with a few happy curses as he tentatively massages my special spot with the tip of his cock. With one hand I release the bed sheets and claw at his back, pushing down with the flat of my palm as he gets sucked inside of me further.
"K-Kiefer!"
His inner beast kicks in and soon he's working overtime to make me cry his name in pure ecstasy again. But, I'm not about to be outshone either. He may be the team captain and arguably the most important player but I'm no benchwarmer.
When I start to buck upwards in time with his thrusts he makes a strangled sound deep in his throat. I can feel the extra inches that are added to my tight hole and his much longer cock truly starts to get a workout. I decide to take it up another notch when he starts to moan loud enough to have the roof come crashing down. There's a certain appeal to rotating my hips and receiving a new noise from Caleb for each plunge.
I clench around him as he pushes me off that cliff separating me from orgasm and in doing so he speeds up, heavy balls slapping my ass in an ever-quickening tempo. His cock lands in a spongy nerve bundle and I cry out as a hot flash takes over. A thick rope of semen flies sporadically, coating his upper chest with the force of the blast. Naughty thoughts cloud my mind and I reach with both hands to smear my cum down his front and across his solid abs. This action and my grinning face push him to convulse and empty himself with a few final jabs.
Spent, if only for the moment, Caleb collapses half on top of me and half in a mound of pillows, his cock still half inside of me. That's too many halves and I bring his face in for a full and hearty kiss, shoving my tongue in to take a more dominant role. His own tongue wrestles with mine and the rest of his dick slips out of me as he rolls fully on top of my chest, pinning my arms to the feathery pillows.
His tongue becomes more forceful and I moan as he takes control of the situation again. Sure I like being on the bottom but he's let me get away with a lot so far so I pull back from him and bite his shoulder before he can react properly.
His gasp as I nip him, moving up and down his neck, occasionally suckling him, is so erotic that I fear he might just be getting hard again. It isn't an assumption anymore; he's certainly just as stiff as the first time, rubbing against my own cock which isn't quite as testosterone-fuelled.
I don't think I can manage another romp until later. I voice my concerns. "I-I don't think I'm ready for another go yet."
He nuzzles my neck in an affectionate way and I melt as he whispers, "Doesn't matter. I just want to stay in bed with you."
I smile into his next kiss; I might just be able to make a gay boy out of him yet.
A.N.: Please tell me what you thought of this and whether or not I should make more stories like this one in the future. I admit, I did have fun typing this for you all, so hopefully everyone who reads this can add their opinion to the mix! You review, I reply!
By the way, should I write an epilogue to this or what? ;P
~Reiki