New Jock Tales—Freshman Year—The Beginning
“Aight—aight—-everybody gather round. Come on—move in tite. You cant play football and be afraid to touch somebody. Gentlemen, welcome to Freshman football. Look around—you have 47 new brothers, and today, is the first day—-of the rest of your life”. Jr High is over, and you are no longer little k I d s. You are now official representatives of East Tyler High School. You will conduct yourself accordingly at all times, in and out of uniform, in or out of school, 24/7 for as long as you are a member of this team. You have no right to be here—I don’t care if you were born with a football in your hands, I don’t care if you been playing since pee-wee, I don’t care how good you think you are, and I don’t care who your daddy is. It is a privilege to stand in this room, and such privilege can be taken away from you at any moment.
You will respect your team members at all times, under all circumstances. You will respect your uniform, weather practice gear or game dress. You will respect those cheerleaders, and that band—they are here for YOU. That’s all I got—I’ll turn it over to Matt”. The coaches speech was direct and to the point.
“My name is Matt Dillon. I am your quarter back, and team captain. Simply put—the buck stops here.
“At William May HS in Austin, there is a 6 foot trophy in their trophy case, just inside the main entrance. I have been there, and seen it. It has been there for three years now. This year, The Tyler Mustangs Freshman Football Team will TAKE that trophy from them, and make it ours”. Silence is finally broken as the whole room erupts in cheers—
“Now—you four b o y s over there, come here. Get ur asses in here in the team. These are you team managers. They are every bit a part of this team as you. That’s Will, Corey, Dustin, and Hunter. These are the b o y s that at every game will sling you gatorade, squirt eye wash in your eyes , get you a mouth piece, and clean up the trash you leave behind, as well as the entire stadium. These are the
b o y s, that after every practice, will come into our locker room and pick up your wet towels, your stinkin socks, your pissed stained jock straps, your dirty uniforms, and wash them. They will stock soap and TP and towels in the bathrooms, and locker room. They will mop the floors. They will polish your helmets and cleats. They will then re-stock your gear into your locker. Be sure to tag your shit with either your name or number. These b o y s worship you. You will give the highest respect to these four b o y s at all times. Because of them, every Friday night when we bust through that banner, we will look like a million bucks. And yes, Dustin is my lil bro—don’t fuck with him”.
“Aight—that’s enuff of that shit. By the end of the week I will *********** sections leaders. Until then you bring everything to me. Aches—pains—sickness–homework–girlfriends—boyfriends (a little chuckle in the background) Your instructions were sweats, jocks, and running sneaks—for today shirts are optional. I want everyone to drop your sweats—anyone not wearing a jock—sits out. Now, the track around the field is ½ mile. I want 20 laps. GO GO GO”.
Several moans and grown’s arose, with a few complaints, but I just stared them down until they hit the door. Afterwards would be weight training, play books, assigning positions and strings, then more speeches. There were only five that hadn’t wore a jock. I guess I shouldn’t have to explain the importance of protecting ones nuts, but I did anyway. I handed the five b o y s the playbooks, and told them to start studying. “Anyone that thinks you not going to have a jock tomorrow, better tell me now—I’ll get you one”. Maurice Jones was the only one to raise his hand, kinda shy like. I already knew what the problem was—dirt poor. Rather than embarrass him n front of the others, I motioned for him to follow me outside, and we took a seat on the bleachers.
“So what’s up, Maurice ?.” “Shit Matthew, you know what the problem is—my parents don’t have no money. And it’s not just the jock—still gotta get a cup, socks, and cleats”. I looked down at his feet—even the sneaks he was wearing were ragged out. “So dude—you try out—you make the team, probably first string, and you got no gear. How the fuck did you think you were gonna pull this off ?”
“Just hope for a miracle I guess Matthew—like most Negros.” I hung my head in deep thought. Between the five regular clients Mark Mattox now had me set up with, I probably made more money getting my dick sucked, and fucking middle age cougars in a month than his parents made in a year. And now we were getting into more legit stuff too—mowing yards, cleaning pools, and even painting houses. I slapped Maurice on the back and told him don’t worry, I was gonna take care of him.
After practice Mark showed up as promised, and picked up me and Maurice, and Dustin. We head straight to Hibbets, where we got Maurice a couple of jocks and a cup, some practice socks, and a pair of cleats. I told him most of the bo y s were wearing Pony, so that’s what we were going to get. I got him a few tee shirts as well, for every day wear. I said if anyone asked where all his shit came from, just tell them he got a sponsor.
Later, back at the crib, I went through my drawers and gave Maurice some old clothes. Tees, running shorts, couple of old sneaks, and even a pair of jeans. Mark said he had to go to his regular job, but would return later to ride Maurice home. Dustin disappeared up to his room, and Maurice and me just chilled down in the basement, which was my room. We kicked back on the bed, and I lit up a joint. Maurice looked surprised, but I told him it wouldn’t kill him—besides, it might get you hard. He grinned and asked me ‘what happens then” and I sheepishly replied “we jack off”.
Maurice took a couple of light pulls from the joint, then getting more relaxed said to me “You know Matthew, rumor has it you got the biggest dick on the team”. I shoot Maurice a big shit-eatin grin, and just hop up off the bed, and yanked my sweats down to my thighs. “No rumor bro—8” Maurice face lit up from shock. “Fuck Matthew, I never seen a dick that big on a cracker”. I chuckled and replied, “well, it is pretty rare, I guess. Check it out” and I turned around and spread my ass cheeks to show Maurice the thick line of hair already growing in my crack, as well as the thick exploding bush around my dick and balls. “Fuck” was about all he could say, but from absent minded amazement, I guess, he reached up and started running his fingers up and down my crack, feeling the fine hairs in it. I smiled at him, then turned back around, proudly displaying my now rock hard jock cock. “Damm” again, was all he could muster, and now the fuck juice started leaking from my piss slit. I thought that I had noticed Maurice checking me out in the showers a few times—guess he was curious if the rumor was true. I grabbed my dick and gave it a squeeze, and coaxed more juice from the piss slit. I looked him straight into his eyes, and then went for it. “Suck it, Maurice”.
With that, Maurice wasted no time, and grabbing my thick meat, went straight down my vein poppin 8”
cock. Putting a lip lock around my shaft, up and down he went, swallowing it to the pubes each time. The feeling was so amazing, I literally fell back onto the bed, on my back, with my legs hanging over the side. I threw my arms up behind my neck, exposing my ripe bushy pits. Taking a huff, made my dick further swell, and my big purple mushroom head was now swollen like a d o g s. Maurice continued his hungry assault on my big teen age dick, and my thighs already were starting to tremble. I brought my legs up, and placed the heels of my big jock sz 11 feet on the edge of the bed. In a few seconds Maurice came up off my dick, long enough to comment “damm yo ass stinks homie”. I kinda chuckled, but suddenly Maurice pushed my legs up, and pushed my knees back on either side of my face, fully exposing my ripe greasy hairy ass. With no hesitation, he dove his tongue straight into my greasy hole, and went to work on it like he was eating ice-cream. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. As he pushed his tongue into my dirty hole, my abs begin to convulse. He held me tight by my ankles, and continued now, with his full mouth eating out my hairy jock crack. I couldn’t stand it any more, and grabbing my dick, started pumping it with a fever. Seeing this, Maurice came out of my ass, and then again swallowed my dick down to the pubes. I grabbed him by the head, and f o r c e d my raging shaft down his throat, past his tonsils. And then—I cut loose. Shot after shot of my thick jock goo went flying down his throat, I figured around Mach 1, lol. I slammed my dick more down his throat as I continued to jet my juice into his belly. I counted 7 shots, each with the intensity of almost blacking out.
Finally Maurice came up, and was now standing right in front of me, with his knees touching the side of the bed. He grabbed his own thick black cock, and pulled it like it was going to come off. In only a few seconds, Maurice began to unload his own massive load of thick juice, splashing it all over my chest and belly. I reached up and grabbed him around his ass, and pulled him in closer to me. Leaning over, I reached for Maurice dick, still cumming, and took his thick black cock into my mouth. In fair treatment, I went down his shaft, and swallowed his head, gulping down his thick juice. I clenched my throat, to milk him of every drop. He was surprisingly sweet, and I savored his nector.
Finally, we both got up, and headed to the bathroom, for the ‘after’ piss. Not saying a word, we then returned to the room and got dressed. Mark had now returned sooner than expected, and offered to take Maurice home.
As they left, I returned to my bed, and plopped down on my back. Staring up at the ceiling, the thoughts ran through my head. I started playing with my dick again, still half hard from it’s massive explosion. I just sucked a Negro’s dick, and I fuckin loved it. Football was going to be great !