Nick (Sequel to JP)
|“See ya tomorrow, Nick!” Peter called to his teammate as he exited the locker room, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder and subtly showing off his newly-acquired bulging biceps.
“You too, Petey…Pete, I mean,” Nick returned, quickly correcting himself. He knew the second string quarterback no longer went by his old name…and neither did his size. At nearly six feet tall, he looked big and powerful now, a far cry from the skinny, little kicker of last season. In fact, his arm was as good as his leg was back then; with a little more practice, he might actually give Brandon a run for his money.
“Hey, Pete!” Brandon’s voice – made obvious by his slight southern Indiana twang – floated in from the hallway. “Good job today!” Then, the boy-angel himself came strutting in the room and Nick’s heart skipped a beat. His was completely shirtless, sweat pouring down every crevice of his pecs and abs. And the bulge in his football pants was noticeable, his 13-inch cock pushing against the material. He whistled an indiscernible tune as he walked up to his locker next to Nick’s.
“You’re certainly in a good mood today,” Nick observed. There was definitely something different about him, particularly after the last few months. The whole summer, Brandon had been down. Well, who wouldn’t after suddenly hearing that they could never have kids? But now, he seemed like a totally new person. His smile was the widest it had been in ages…almost foolishly so.
“Practice went great,” he answered, peering brightly at Nick…and making his stomach flip. God, that smile! “You caught every single one of my passes.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Nick chuckled, not taking his eyes off of Brandon as he sprayed on some deodorant, his pecs bouncing slightly as he raised his muscular arms over his head. “There’s this glow about you.”
“No, there’s not,” Brandon defended feebly, tossing the deodorant back into his locker and grabbing a muscle shirt, his triceps popping as he reached in.
“Uh, yeah,” Nick chimed. “You’re acting exactly the same way I did right after I met Erin.” He closed his locker door and leaned his cannonball shoulder against it, grinning at his teammate. “Who is it?” Brandon paused and looked sheepishly down at the floor.
“His name’s Greg,” he muttered softly. “He’s in the color guard.” Nick’s jaw practically hit the ground.
“Greg Hazelton?!” Brandon looked up in surprise.
“Yeah, you know him?”
“Of course,” Nick beam, hardly believing the coincidence. “He worked out all summer with Billy and me.” Dipping his head, he moved in closer to his buddy. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Brandon blushed a deep red, deeper than Nick had ever seen. Yeah, he definitely had fallen for the kid.
“I don’t know what it is about him,” he confessed. “He doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not. And he doesn’t care what other people think. He just does it.” Nick smiled to himself, now realizing how it all made sense. All his life, Brandon had always done what other people – namely his father – wanted him to do. He had never done anything for himself. And now, here was a guy like Greg who took matters into his own hands. Yeah, he may have been reluctant at first, but Brandon hadn’t seen what Nick had seen over the course of the summer. And that was a young man growing – no, exploding – out of his shell. Though Brandon and Greg came from different backgrounds, they shared a common bond, a like desire to freely be themselves.
“Why don’t you ask him out or something?” Nick suggested. Brandon immediately shot a look of alarm, his face frozen with apprehension. “Well, I don’t mean publicly,” Nick quickly added. “Just ask if he wants to hang out, get to know him a bit more. That’s all.” Brandon smiled weakly, the twinkle re-entered his eyes again.
“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered, slipping the muscle shirt over his head and pulling it down his ripped torso.
“Brandon,” Nick continued, “if you really like this guy as much as it seems, you should take a page from his book. Just do it.” Brandon looked over at him with a thoughtful expression.
“See ya around,” he said before grabbing his gym bag and jogging out of the locker room. Nick watched his perfect bubble butt bounce as he went. He deserves this, he thought.
“Oh, shit! Oh, shit!” Erin shrieked as Nick rhythmically drove his massive cock into her again and again, his gigantic arms and chest effortlessly pressing her 115-pound body up and down, her cunt sliding along the thick shaft. She tried hard to keep from passing out, clutching onto his powerful shoulders, watching as his pecs got more and more flushed and pumped. How he did this, she could never fathom. This was actually the fourth straight time he had fucked her in less than an hour. They had done it twice in the shower – anally the second time – and once more as soon as they got into bed…and now this! And each one had been better than the last!
“Yeah,” Nick grunted as his girlfriend’s full breasts slapped lightly against his concrete pecs. This summer, he had gotten unimaginably huge…and he was still growing! In fact, he had already gained another five pounds during football camp, now tipping the scales at 263 pounds of pure muscle!
“AHHH!” Erin screamed, her mouth agape in ecstasy as Nick exploded into her – 12 huge loads of warm spunk that didn’t seem to stop coming. Her body shuddered on top of his as she hung onto his traps for dear life. Damn, they were going to have to start using bigger condoms or something; Nick was getting too powerful. Erin collapsed onto her boyfriend’s chest, her tits nudged between his deeply cut abs.
“I didn’t hurt you , did I?” he asked, gingerly brushing his fingers along her cheek. Erin gently lifted her head, leaving a pool of drool on his left pec. Shit, he’s getting so hot, she thought to herself, I can’t even control myself.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, looking into his debilitating eyes as he peered up at her. Gliding her hand over Nick’s massive arms, she sighed and shook her head. “I never thought I’d ever have a boyfriend with 22-inch biceps…or a 12-inch cock,” she whispered, gazing seductively at him. Nick blushed and grinned bashfully. He took in a deep breath – his rock-hard pecs pressing against the bottom of his chin – and held his girlfriend’s face in his hands.
“You’re pretty steaming yourself,” he uttered and reached up to kiss her. Instantly, his abs tensed around her nipples and a wave of euphoria swept through her, their tongues playfully wrestling with each other inside their mouths. Once they parted, Erin cradled her head up against Nick’s powerfully thick neck, feeling his heart beating against her cheek. Gingerly, she traced the jagged, hairline stretch marks in his pecs and shoulders with her fingers.
“My muscles have been growing too fast for my skin,” he explained, taking her hand into hers.
“I know,” she said distantly. “My brothers used to get them every now and then. But they were never like this.” She gazed up at him, placing her palms on both his massive pecs. “They were never anywhere near as big as you, either.” Nick blushed a deep red as he grinned. “You don’t realize the effect you have on the girls at school,” Erin commented.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you notice it?” she asked skeptically. “Almost every girl practically…uh, wets herself when you walk down the hall.” Nick laughed. “They want you so bad.” Suddenly, Nick turned in one swift move and Erin found herself completely surrounded by her god-boyfriend’s massive muscles as he straddled her body in the bed, having moved with his legendary athletic quickness.
“But you’re the only one who can have me,” he hissed. Erin looked down and saw his throbbing monster-cock, covered by a dry condom; she had been so enrapture by his eyes that she hadn’t noticed him putting a new condom on! Damn, he was good! Then, he slid his arm underneath the small of her back and immediately began plunging her pelvis around his dick…again and again. Nick was basically curling her entire bodyweight with one colossal arm as he fucked her a fifth time! She didn’t have to do anything; Erin just lay there as Nick did all the work. God, he was superhuman!
“Oh, my God!” she squealed as she watched his biceps growing with each rep/stroke, the veins becoming more and more pumped, the sweat pouring off of him and onto her chest. In minutes – and after what seemed like over a hundred reps, for Erin had lost count – Nick let go another enormous load, even bigger than the last. Erin nearly lost it all, her arms clutching his engorged lats, her breasts jiggling all over the place. Nick, on the other hand, was calm and placid, though sweating profusely. She knew that this was still a warm-up to him; he could literally go all night.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear as he lifted himself off of her. He stood up and peeled the dripping wet condom off his heavy cock, tossing it into the garbage. As he did, Erin gazed up at him from behind. His insanely wide shoulders contrasted sharply with his impossibly narrow waist, creating a striking V-shape. The muscles of his back were deeply etched and shifted underneath his paper-thin skin with every movement he made. And his ass was so gorgeous, Erin actually began to feel her cunt become wet yet again.
“Shit, Nick,” she gasped, “I can’t stop cumming.” Nick turned around and met her eyes once more, instantly sending her into a tizzy. She started moaning with erotic pleasure…and he hadn’t even touched her! His dick – already hard again – was standing straight up as he rolled on yet another condom. Yep, he was preparing for a sixth straight time without a break. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to Erin, but it moved her every time.
“You ready?” he purred, staring down at her with commanding eyes. His voice floated through her like velvet, touching every nerve in her body. She groaned her reply. In an instant, Nick picked her up and began fucking her one…more…time.
Greg concentrated hard as he went through his rifle routine for the halftime show. 1,2,3,4…he twirled it behind his back, switching hands halfway through…5,6,7,8…he swung it across his chest into his outstretched right arm…9,10,11,12…then he tossed it high in the air, counting the revolutions as it came down toward him. SLAP! He loved that sound, the smack of the rifle hitting his hands in a flawless catch.
“How do you throw that thing up in the air and catch it so perfectly?” Brandon asked from the opposite side of the fence. Greg hadn’t noticed him approaching and nearly jumped when he saw the hunky jock observing his practice, his sweaty face glowing in the sunlight.
“How do you throw those footballs in such perfect spirals?” he returned with a grin. Brandon blushed and swept his hand through his golden blond hair, his biceps flexing impressively as he did. God, he was so gorgeous! Those pale blue eyes that haunted his dreams, the full, red lips that looked so sexy, the broad, powerful shoulders and beefy arms that could throw a football for miles, the trim, athletic waist that displayed his ripped abs, those big, strong legs that could escape any attack from a defensive line. The first time Greg had ever laid eyes on him, he knew he had a hopeless crush…but at the time he thought it would be useless. Guys like that never talked to guys like him.
But that was six months ago…and Greg was not the shy kid he was back then. If a kid could have bulging, shredded muscles where before there was only skin and bones, if he could bench his own bodyweight where at one time he couldn’t even bench the bar, he knew anything was possible. Greg smiled at Brandon, feeling his cock stir in his shorts. Nervously, he flicked his hair out of his eyes with a sudden jerk of his head. Brandon bit his lip.
“I just wanted to say,” he began, “well, I’ve been coming over here and talkin’ to you almost every day.” He shifted his weight back and forth – the huge muscles in his thighs flexing along – and continued stumbling over his words. Could Greg possibly be having the same effect on the jock-stud as he had on him? “I just wanted to tell you, you know…uh…” He glanced at the field behind him and lowered his husky voice. “I think you look pretty hot.” Greg nearly fell over when he heard those words. No one, much less someone as beautiful as Brandon Jones, had ever said that to him…ever. “Especially in that shirt,” the jock went on, cracking an awkward smile.
“Oh, this?” Greg responded, looking down at himself. He was wearing an old tanktop that hugged his striated pecs tightly, the bottom barely covering his corrugated abs. “I’ve kind of outgrown it. I didn’t used to be like this.”
“Nah, it looks good on you.” The boy-hunk’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. Yeah, he definitely has a crush on me, too, Greg thought to himself.
“Uh, thanks,” he answered, turning red himself. “You’re kinda hot, too…though I’m sure you’re used to hearing that.” Well, Brandon was the star quarterback of the football team. Those guys always got hundreds of compliments a day.
“Not from someone like you,” Brandon instantly replied back. Then he laughed. “God, that sounds so corny.” Was the giant bulge in his shorts twitching? Or was that just Greg’s imagination? God only knew how big that thing was.
“I had a feeling you were gay,” he suddenly blurted. Brandon froze, Greg covering his mouth. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to just say it out loud like that. It’s just that guys like you are never gay.”
“Well,” Brandon chuckled uneasily, “things aren’t always what they seem.” He looked away for a moment before peering back at Greg. “Would you like to go out with me?” Greg’s eyes widened wildly. “I mean, not like a real date or anything.” Brandon blinked and took in a deep breath. “Nick and Erin and I are…you know…goin’ to Glory Daze on Saturday night and I was, uh, wonderin’ if you’d like to, you know, come along.”
“Sure!” Greg immediately answered, his eyebrows darting up. Brandon laughed at his reaction.
“Great,” he said. “I’ll see you then.” As he walked away – though not before stealing another glance over his shoulder – Greg felt his heart begin beating rapidly. He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed in such a short time. And it turned out Brandon Jones, the stud quarterback, was gay and attracted to him. It almost seemed like a dream – or some kind of weird joke. But it was all real…as real as the muscles on his body.
“Does that feel good?” Diane asked as she continued massaging Palmer’s foot. The two were sitting on the sofa in her living room, a pair of half-drunk wine glasses next to them on the coffee table.
“Oh,” he moaned, smiling, “that’s great.” Palmer was amazed – Diane was pretty, had a great personality…and knew massage therapy to boot. Of course, that’s how they met in the first place – she gave massages to his football team.
“Had a tough day on the field…Coach?” She said the word as if it was a title of endearing respect. Well, to her, being a coach of a nearly-undefeated football team garnered a great deal of respect.
“Yes,” he answered, his eyes gazing thoughtfully at the woman on the other end of the couch. “But my boys would laugh if they saw this side of me,” he chuckled.
“What side?” Diane chimed, though it was obvious she knew exactly what he meant.
“This…tender side,” Palmer went on. “To them, I’m a tyrant. I’m a guy that yells at them all the time, expecting nothing but their best.”
“Well, it works, doesn’t it?” she smiled, leaning over him, her blond hair dangling over her bright, blue eyes. Palmer sighed.
“Angelakis and Jones are better and stronger than ever,” he began to explain, “Evans has really impressed me lately with how he handles his new quarterbacking responsibilities. And Freeman and the rest of the defense are the hardest working line I’ve ever coached. I…” He stopped himself and laughed. “Here I am, talking shop on a date.”
“That’s ok,” Diane replied genially. “I’m from the Midwest. I know my football.” Palmer shook his head as he sat up.
“God, you’re so perfect,” he said out loud. He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. Her eyes twinkled; he could sense the rush he had just given her. “Speaking of football,” he continued, “Matt looks like a pretty well-built kid. Why didn’t he go out for football back in high school?” Diane’s son obviously took from her side of the family. He had her complexion, her smile. And it was hard to not notice the physique he hid underneath his clothes. With his broad shoulders and big legs, he probably could have been a good punter. Or, judging by how bright he was, a quarterback even.
“Nah,” Diane answered, “music was always very important to him. He had to do marching band.” She looked up into the air, smiling warmly. “Plus, Matthew didn’t have quite the build he does now. He was on the crew team, but most of that muscle he put on after graduation.”
“It’s amazing what kids do once they get to college,” Palmer observed.
“Yeah,” she continued. “But I think it was more inspiration from his…” She suddenly cut herself off, her face bending into an awkward pose. “…father. Yeah,” she finished, “Robert had been an accomplished athlete himself at Rutgers. Now, there’s a football team that’s come a long way.” Palmer noted with amusement how smoothly she changed the subject. It was almost as if she was hiding something about her son and had nearly let it slip. But never mind; he went right with it.
“Schiano’s done a great job with those boys,” he agreed. “You know, I met him at a banquet once.”
“Oh, really?” Diane’s face lit up. She curled up further on the sofa as she readied herself for one more of his football tales. Unlike many of the other women he had dated, she loved to hear them. He couldn’t have asked for a better woman.
“So when I finally got over the shock of Brandon being gay,” Greg told his story, “I suddenly wondered, how did he keep it up for all those girls.” He made a funny face as Nick and Erin laughed heartily from the other side of the table. Brandon blushed and glanced over at Greg with tender eyes.
The four were eating dinner at Glory Daze, a local sports bar/restaurant. It was one of those places that was decorated with all the local sports memorabilia and had over a dozen TV sets scattered around the room, tuned to all the different sports channels. But the best thing about this joint was the radios mounted at each booth that allowed people to tune to whatever channel they wished to listen to the game as they watched from their seats. Naturally, it was a popular place among the area’s high school kids and Nick, Erin and Brandon went there almost on a regular basis.
“You’re so bad,” Erin comically scolded. Greg shrugged, smirking as he flipped his long hair out of his eyes with a flick on his head. Erin had noticed that this was his new habit, replacing the one of tucking his hair behind his ears. It made sense; the kid was no longer a shy, little introvert. He had come out of his shell big time. Well, he had certainly captured the attention of Brandon Jones. The two were obviously into each other, making eyes every so often. Frankly, she thought it was cute – two hot, gorgeous boys in love with one another. Who knew?
“So what do you guys wanna eat?” Brandon asked, looking over his menu. Erin looked up from hers with a mischievous grin and propped one eyebrow up.
“I heard the foot-longs are good.” Nick spit out the soda he was drinking as Greg laughed hysterically. Brandon, meanwhile, began blushing even more.
“Will you guys stop talking about my…my…”
“Gifts?” Nick finished, adding even more to Erin’s grin. He shook his head, looking over at his girlfriend. A shudder when down her back as she peered into his eyes. She pretty much had to do everything to keep from attacking him in the middle of the restaurant. “By the way,” Nick continued, “what game do you guys want?” He began turning the knob of the radio, switching between all the channels.
“Put on Notre Dame,” Brandon immediately suggested. It was his favorite college football team
“Hm, yeah,” Erin chirped. “Brady Quinn is hot.” Nick glared at her playfully, clearing his throat. “Well, he is. Have you seen him with his shirt off? Whew!” She fanned herself with her hand.
“He’s their quarterback, right?” Greg asked. Brandon nodded, gazing directly into his eyes. “Yeah, he is cute,” he swooned, eliciting another giggle from Erin.
“Supposedly, some of our plays are from the Fighting Irish playbook,” Nick informed. “Isn’t that right, B?” But Brandon didn’t hear him, lost in Greg’s eyes. “Uh, B?” Suddenly, Brandon snapped to.
“Oh, sorry, what?”
“Brady Quinn? Notre Dame? We stole plays from them?” Nick grinned, recognizing what was going on between them.
“Oh, yeah,” Brandon answered, turning red once again.
“You know,” Erin piped up, “there are some people out there who think Brady Quinn is gay.” Nick and Brandon simultaneously guffawed.
“Yeah, right,” Nick snickered sarcastically.
“Hey, stranger things have happened,” Greg reminded them, nudging Brandon in the ribs and glancing longingly at him. God, they were so falling over each other.
“Ironically,” Brandon sighed, “my dad wants me to be like him.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice – obviously stemming from the rift that had grown between his father and him – but ever since meeting Greg his mood had dramatically lifted. He grinned brightly. “Maybe he is gay.”
“Well, then,” Greg announced, lifting his root beer mug. “Here’s to America’s next queer quarterback.”
Nick walked hand-in-hand with Erin as they followed Brandon and Greg out of Glory Daze. The two boys looked so perfect together. They were just talking about football – Greg had learned a great deal about the game since working out with Nick and Billy – but the way they looked at each other, the way their eyes glistened whenever their gazes met…wow, they were definitely in love.
“Oh, Erin,” Greg suddenly stopped and turned to her, Brandon following his every move. “I have to tell you about the new move I’m gonna do in the closer.” Erin looked over at Nick and he shrugged. He knew this was about color guard so he let her go.
“We’ll catch up with you guys later,” he called as Greg pulled his girlfriend toward another part of the parking lot, leaving him alone with Brandon. There was no one else around and the side of the building was kind of dark. The two would be able to speak freely to each other; Nick had been wanting to anyway. “Who would’ve thought that you and Greg would be so into each other?”
“Yeah,” Brandon looked down at his feet, “he’s amazing.” He watched Greg as he animatedly explained to Erin his new move. “You know, he can name every single muscle in the human body.” He bit his lip. “Of course, it helps that he can see every one of them on himself.” Nick could only agree; Greg was insanely ripped. He really was like a living anatomy textbook.
“Yeah,” he replied, “he definitely did his research over the summer. He probably knows more than I do.” Brandon sighed, pausing before he turned back to Nick.
“Nick,” he began, “I want to thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“I had been such a pain in the ass all summer. I was being selfish. But you and Erin…” He looked over at Greg again. “I’ve known I was gay for years, but I didn’t want to believe it. But ever since I met you, and then Greg…I’m beginning to come to terms with it.” Nick gazed at his friend in awe. He knew what this was all about. Brandon was finally filling that void that had been in him most of his life – the same void that Nick had filled when he first met Erin. Brandon still had a long way to go, but he was getting there…and Greg would surely help him make it.
“Your welcome,” Nick answered, not knowing what else to say. Then, Brandon placed his hand on Nick’s pec, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. Nick gulped.
“Can I have just one more kiss?” Brandon asked. Nick didn’t answer; he knew it would be hopeless. Slowly, they leaned in toward each other until their lips touched. Gently, they kissed, their tongues tussling against one another. It was tender, soft, no longer the kiss of erotic passion. Their relationship had changed since Greg entered. Brandon had finally realized what he had been doing to Nick, but he wanted one last remnant of that time. Nick felt slightly breathless when they let go. “Thanks,” Brandon muttered before smiling and turning away. Nick held his fingers to his lips. They still tingled from the touch of Brandon’s. He was definitely happy for him.
Travis hid in a dark corner, the glow of his digital camera the only thing illuminating his face. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in the display window. He had spotted Brandon Jones coming out of Glory Daze with that gay kid in the color guard. That had been weird enough, but then Nick Angelakis began talking to him behind the restaurant. And it certainly didn’t look like a conversation about football.
That’s when Travis got his camera out and set in on video.
Now, he was reviewing the entire scene…how the two boys got closer as they continued talking, how Brandon put his hand on Nick’s chest…how the two jocks started kissing. When that happened, Travis’s jaw practically fell to the ground. This was just too good to be true. The picture was perfect in his camera…and it was exactly the thing he was looking for.
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