QB Club Retreat Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
WARNING: The following story contains graphic depictions of male/male sex and is for adults only. Do not read if such material offends you or is inappropriate for your age. This story is purely fictional fantasy and in no way reflects on the real persons depicted.
Part 3
Induction Ceremony
This was turning out to be the biggest QB Club gathering so far. Pounds and pounds of prime athlete flesh squeezed into Elway's mountain cabin, their heat radiating off smooth, bared muscle and warming the room. The main living room was overflowing capacity and the kitchen now doubled as a changing room for the excited men.
Chad Pennington looked at the pile of jock straps mounting on the kitchen table as he stripped his down and tossed it on top. His dick swung free and he could feel the other quarterback's appreciative gaze as they simultaneous communicated their friendship, esteem and desire. He looked back at the men and broke the ice as more NFL studs tumbled into the room.
"You know, Elway says this is the biggest fuckparty in the history of the league."
"Yeah, I believe it," answered Joey Harrington, his dark eyes smiling as he tossed his sweaty jock onto the pile and stripped off his shirt. He felt a pair or two of rough hands run along his exposed backmuscle as he bent down to take off his socks. "Fuck, I hear that Brad Johnson's even flown out here." He stood up, his dick upright and his balls cocked. God, he was horny for this night. Roughly he grabbed his meat and began stroking it.
Tim Couch placed his hands on both athlete's shoulders as he butted into the conversation. "That cheapskate? I'm surprised he'd even pay for a hotel room." From behind him, teammate Kelly Holcomb grabbed his shorts and stripped them down.
Another athlete these men didn't recognize chimed in. "He's not. Colorado is putting him up in the athlete's dorm."
"Well, Johnson's gonna be drained for the evening!" Pennington quipped and they all laughed. The athletes were in no hurry to cover the glory of their bare flesh, and anyway, there was only one clothing item that was the "uniform" for this QB club party: a pair of nylon-mesh practice shorts showing the respective team of the athletes. Coaches and visiting stars of other sports were required to walk around balls naked, a requirement that none of them seemed to mind. Alabama coach Mike Shula had already shucked off his gear and had his arms draped around Tide QBs Brodie Croyle and Spencer Pennington.
Holcomb had pulled on a pair of Browns shorts when Couch yanked them back off again. "Un huh, Holcomb. You know the uniform."
The athlete blushed in exasperation. "Christ, guys! I'm not a college kid. I don't hafta..."
"Yeah, you hafta, all right." Kerry Collins boomed. "It's your first time to one of our parties, so you're part of the ceremony. That's the rule. So put on the jockstrap and stop complaining."
The athlete nodded but was resisting. "But how do I know which jock is mine?"
"What the fuck does it matter?"
Holcomb's frown broke into a grin and his dick hung down further between his legs, hardening slightly. "Yeah, I guess you gotta point Chad. Toss me one of those babies."
Just as Pennington was about to reach over to the pile of NFL-issued jockstraps, Joey Harrington gave a huge grunt. He'd been unable to stop the savage flogging he was giving his red, swollen cock. Planting his feet apart, he leaned his head back and blasted forth with a river of pent-up cum. White juice rained all over the kitchen table and the still-warm jocks, soaking the underwear in slime.
"Maybe you should pick your own, Kelly." Chad joked.
Holcomb sauntered up to the table and felt around the pile til he found the wettest strap and grasped it in his hand. He smiled at Harrington as he stepped into the straps and fitted the pouch over his crotch with difficulty. He was full-on hard now.
When Rich Gannon entered the room, his dark goodlooks announcing his presence, the quarterbacks and assorted guests all erupted in cheer. Each year the MVPs from the present and previous years led the induction of the new members: pro players making their first appearance as well as Junior QB Clubbers - young, promising college players who in private have taken to hot no-holds-barred pro-ball mansex as much as they've been showing their ball-throwing worth for the public. The Oakland quarterback was excited as hell by the honor of MC-ing the induction ceremony this year. Part of it was knowing the esteem his fellow players held him in. But a bigger part was his fondness for college jocks, a hunger that had grown only deeper over the last year or two as Gannon learned that he could use his celebrity status to charm built studs in the prime of their youth into the sack.
"Hey Rich!" a voice in the crowd cried out. It was Brett Favre, his arm draped around his latest fuckbud, Michigan star John Navarre. "You gonna save a piece for your buddy?"
"Hell, Brett, looks like you already got your claws into Navarre there." He strolled past the crowd of testerone-pumped, half-naked men. They ogled his perfectly proportioned body, winning smile and hairy chest. And a whopping bulge that lay in his shorts. He stopped in front of Elway, who had his beefy arms wrapped around Matt Schaub, one hand lazily stroking the college athlete's nude torso, the other hand groping a healthy piece of meat through the Virginia navy blue shorts. Both men were smiling big.
"Thanks for hosting the party John. But you know, I was hoping Matt here would be part of the induction ceremony." Rich gripped his semi-hard piece in his shorts and winked at the younger man.
"Nah, Rich. He got inducted last year. But just between you and me..." he leaned forward and lowered his voice, "I bet we could arrange a private ceremony later on, bud. If you're still up for it."
Rich broke into a broad smile. One of his hand reached forward and ran down the length of Schaub's meaty, smooth chest. "Yeah, I'll be up for it. Gannon's always got a bone for studs this fine."
Elway laughed. "All right, later bud."
"Yeah," Matt said, "Can't wait, Rich."
Steve McNair walked into the room next, his powerful, smooth black muscles and cute, aw-shucks face announcing his presence. That, and the trouser snake wadded up in the crotch of his Tennessee Titan issue shorts. Truth be told, he hadn't been to too many of the QB Club parties, as over the last year, he and Keith Brooking of the Atlanta Falcons had moved from best friends to fuck buddies to committed lovers. Truth be told, McNair was happier than anything to have to found his match in Brooking - a hot, in-command white stud jock who was 100 percent top man - including that unbeatable aggressive eye contact, knowing smile, cocky bowlegged walk - until the two got in the sack and Brooking's pearly-smooth bubble butt was in the air accepting inch after inch of Steve's megalong dong. One night after an intense deepfucking, McNair pulled out and Brooking rolled out from under him, got up to find the measuring tape. Even softening, it capped thirteen inches. Pure male power attached to a black athlete in his prime. Keith couldn't resist immediately capping his mouth over the head and going down on the spermy half-tumescent cock.
Steve looked at Keith in the crowd of half-naked pro jocks. They all looked fine, he had to admit, but he wanted to go out there and attack the Falcon linebacker full-force, right in front of the other men. Show those studs who was McNair property. Still, he was honored by the MVP award and happy to participate in the QB Club induction. He'd relax and enjoy the afternoon breaking in some rookie jock tail. And, as they'd agreed beforehand, Brooking would contribute his underused top duties to whatever horned up jock needed them. Steve looked out at the crowd of restless men. A sheen of sweat was starting to form on most of the men's massive torsos and thick, crowbars of NFL cock were trapped in practice shorts or jocks. And the host, Elway, was increasingly swarmed by hunks - his friends from the league as well as the younger players who idolized and lusted after the blonde Bronco and his huge piece. None of these fellows could wait. Yeah, McNair thought, it was gonna be a great party.
Meanwhile, in New York, four men were arguing in a television studio...
"We got the satellite feed set up?" Jim Nantz asked. The production assistant was busy talking on the phone, making sure that everything was set up on the other end. He covered the mouthpiece of the phone and shouted out, "All right, one minute, guys!" The cute cleancut assistant then got in place as the cameras framed the studio set.
"How's my hair? Everything in place?" Dan Marino asked.
"Dayum Dan! You are the VAINEST man I ever seen!" Deion Sanders quipped, his white teeth gleeming as he lifted his beefy arms in gesticulation. Next to him, Boomer Esiason slapped Deion's back and leaned back in his chair, his slightly too-tight suit straining against his veteran pro muscle.
"You're one to talk, Deion," the blonde quarterback laughed.
"Here! Here!" Sanders cried, right before Jim interrupted the men.
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! We're going live in five seconds...four...three... two..."
The monitors in the studio suddenly clicked on with a live feed of Elway's mountain resort and a long view of the living room packed with the NFL's finest men, all squeezed in close quarters and skin-on-skin contact as they faced the camera.
"Hot day-um!" Deion cried out.
"Where's Griese? Anyone seen him?" Jay Fiedler called, Heath Miller's arm possessively wrapped around his jock waist. The Cavalier was attacking the Dolphin QB's neck with long laps of his tongue, the sensual contact with Jay's hot bod was pushing his cock out against the limits of his Dolphins shorts.
"Over here! Eating out Kitna," Lawyer Milloy answered. He and Drew Bledsoe were watching intently as Brian bobbed his head, pushing it as far into the crevice of John Kitna's round butt as he possibly could. Even above the din coming up from a room of excited, testosterone-pumped athletes, the obscene slurping and smacking could be heard.
Fiedler and Miller approached the scene and observed as the heat burned in their already bulging loins. "Fuck, Kitna," Fiedler groaned, "you're wearing a jock. You haven't been inducted yet?"
John cocked his head in a slow fucked-out motion and muttered in reply. "No, man, I haven't. Griese here's wetting me up for the ceremony."
Jock next door Brian kept his face furrowed into hot, moist QB crevice the whole time, his thick tongue relishing the fluttering and spasming of Kitna's grateful sphincter.
"Shit, I forgot how hot McNair looked... God, I could sit on that big strapping chest of his all day," Matt Wilhelm said, his own bare, blonde-dusted chest entangled in the dual embrace of fellow Chargers LaDainian Tomlinson and Drew Brees. The two bubblebutted teammates were too busy sucking and biting at the linebacker's corded neck to answer.
A couple of men down, Detroit Lions stars Bill Schroeder and Joey Harrington were teasing each other's nipples and swapping spit between glances at Gannon's powerful weapon that was prodding up in the black and silver Oakland Raider shorts. Rich's cock was a long, thick vascular fuckpiece that didn't even seem to be fully erect but still pushed up alongside his thigh, poking at the top of the side pocket.
"You ever ridden on that fucker, buddy?" Bill asked. Both athletes considered themselves versatile, as horned up to fuck jock tail as to spread their cheeks for a rough ride. Maybe that's why the teammates got along so well, transfering their on-field chemistry to the bed.
"Nah, Bill. He's got a fucking huge one, though, doesn't he? I hear he can send you to heaven with that thing." Harrington reached down and cupped Bill's own sizeable hardon through his shorts.
"Ummm...look at that big wet spot he's got going. The man's leaking like a broken faucet. Damn, this year's new fellas are one lucky bunch, getting a go at that thing."
"Sure as shit, big guy. Though I remember the big-ass smile on your face when Elway reamed your butt at our induction."
"He he... yeah, John blew his load so deep I bet it's til trickling out. Come on, guy let's move up to get a closer view of the action."
The two hunks pushed their way through the crowd of hard jock flesh so they would be able to sees the inductee file into the room.
The cheering of the men erupted even louder when Peyton Manning entered the room, his gait emanating confidence and sexual heat. The Indianapolis Colt joined his friends and co-MVPs on stage.
"Hey Steve, great to see ya," said Peyton in his adorable Southern drawl as he hugged the beefy yet lithe Titans QB. The two men clasped, their clammy, rigid upper bodies colliding in full contact. "Hey buddy, how the hell ya been? You been keeping Brooking happy?"
Steve laughed, running his hands down the contours of his own meaty chest and rockhard stomach. The powerful, thick fingers clasped at the band of the light blue shorts and pulled down. Most of the men gasped and moaned when mcNair's giant python popped out.
"Yeah, I think this is enough to keep that slut happy," Steve joked, his trademark smile beaming.
Peyton whistled and turned to Gannon. "Jesus, guys. Both of you are uncut? I'm feeling a little left out here." Manning's own mega hardon throbbed in his Colts jersey knit shorts as he examined the length of Steve's chocolate colored staff, which glistened with layers of Titan dick dew.
"Shit, Manning," Gannon piped in, "You don't have anything to worry about. Most of these men would have killed to have played center underneath those golden hands of yours during that Broncos game. Man, you were on fire." Absently, Rich reached down and grabbed his erect piledriver of a cock and began to squeeze and caress it through the knit material. As he played with his massive pud, more and more jock juice began seeping forth, soaking the silver material stretched over the fat, round cockhead.
"Besides, Peyt," he continued. "I envy you. I mean, yeah, I'm sure as shit looking forward to breaking in my share of jock cunt this weekend. But I'd like to find something more. You got bubble-butt Brees and Stevie boy's got Brooking. Fuck... you guys are boning the hottest tail in the NFL. I think it's time that Rich met his man, you know."
Steve stepped up to Gannon and grabbed the Raider QB's drooling tool. "Don't worry stud, when you sink this baby into the right man's butt, you'll know he's the one."
"Hope sure, McNair. Sure hope so."
By this point, Gannon wasn't even looking at the co-inductors but rather was examining the display of grade-AAA hunks gathered around. He thought of the ones he's already fucked, the ones he wanted to fuck, and the ones who were strictly top. The last category turned him on the most, he thought wickedly. But mostly he hoped for lots of varsity jocks to be attending this year. Looking out, he could see his hopes were exceeded. Some of the faces he even recognized... some of the Colorado boys... Ohio athlete-scholar sensation Craig Krenzel... SEC arms Brodie Croyle and Casey Clausen ... One stud in particular caught his eye, a fighting-fit blonde beauty. He was smaller than most of the other athletes - no more than six feet tall - but his fine buff figure, bright white smile and piercing blue eyes caught Gannon's attention immediately. He clasped harder on his shorts-clad dick, which began to burp precum in anticipation of a good, slick fuck. Gannon had to have this jock.
Tom Brady tried to push forward on the swiveling hips pounding his face. His winning smile had for the last half hour taken more abuse by a hard-as-nails cock that seemed to be drilling for untapped treasure.
"Mmmmph! Mmmpfth! Mmmhh!" the star player cried as his throat was ravaged. The throat fucker was Bill Callahan ex-Coach from the Raiders, his blue eyes twinkling as he clenched his hips and forced his manmeat forward, stabbing deep into Tom's pretty-boy gullet.
"Shit, yeah, you cocky little shit... Eat my big ol' coach dick, like you've been wanting to all season." Callahan shivered as he surrendered to deeper pleasure coming from this forced suck job and getting off on dominating the league's top quarterback so wantonly. Sweat dripped down his forehead, off his meaty bare chest, cascading onto Brady's muscled shoulders. "Suck it! Suck it like you do Belichick's, you sick fucker."
Tom wriggled his upper body, hoping to get free, but it was hopeless. A powerful chest behind him held Brady stationary. Besides, the more he struggled the more it turned Callahan on the harder his tonsils were stabbed by pure, hard coach meat.
Also, it pushed him back to sit further on his coach's hard shaft. Callahan was telling the truth. Brady was an asskisser of a player who'd suck his coach daily to become Coach's pet. At least that's how it started. Belichick tapped into something deep in Brady's psyche. A love for older, in charge men that spanned back to his high school idolization of his coach. Now, here Tom was between two oversexed middle-aged satyrs getting reamed like he'd been hankering to all season. If only they'd double team his ass, he thought as Callahan's hard cock pulled back out of his mouth and sprayed forth, sliming Brady's angelic visage with a nasty sheen of man froth. Brady savored the warmth and brininess on his skin, but minute the discharge stopped, he realized he was late for the induction ceremony.
"Shit!" he muttered as he started to raise himself up off Belichick's pistoning shaft.
"Where the fuck do you think YOU're going, Brady?" Belichick bellowed. Tom looked back pleading but Callahan placed his hands on the sculpted shoulders and shoved Brady back down. The thick stalk pounded his quim deep and hard.
Tom Brady, All-American poster boy, growled as fat Belichick cock flattened his butt nut. "Ah, coach, fuck me! Pound the hell outta my ass!"
"Hello guys," Jim Nantz said. "Sorry we couldn't be there in person this time, but Boomer, Deion, Dan and I had to tape the preview show for this weekend."
The athletes all cheered as they watched the giant TV screen. The Inside NFL set was familiar to them all, of course, as taped broadcasts had become their weekly Monday morning viewing. Only this time, as the camera moved steadily back, they saw that while the four TV personalities were wearing their designer suits, below the waist, they were nude, and four magacocks slowly come into view, hard, steely erections that made the men cheers louder. The high definition telecast caught every vein along the meaty shafts and every dribble of jock juice dripping down the ex-athlete's nutsacs.
Elway spoke above the din as two college jocks sucked at his meaty man tits. "Great you could join us guys. We're just about to start the induction. You gonna be able to stay and watch?"
Dan swiveled in his chair, his fat boner swaying with the motion. "Yeah, boys. Even though we're here in New York, we wanted to make sure we could be there in spirit."
At first only the boys up close to the TV noticed and began hollering. Then the rest of the room noticed and joined in the cheering. Just as the camera framed the full figures of the half-nude men, a beautiful, built jock-looking kid walked into the frame. It was the twenty-something production assistant Matt. The young man had his dream job, he'd been with CBS sports division since his intern days straight out of college. He'd played ball in high school but was too short for the team at the state university he attended. But he never lost sight of his first love and he still worshipped everything involving football.
Including the oversized cocks of the gridiron celebrities he looked after. Peeling off his hunter green polo shirt ("Nice!" muttered Kerry Collins, kids like this were just his type), the assistant sank below the desk and crawled between Boomer's megathighs, pushing apart the star's knees and nuzzling up to his genitals.
"Oh, yeah, and we told our PA to give us the best head he could!" Boomer laughed as he tossed his head back and gave into getting blown just as the kid opened up and swallowed Esiason dick whole. Boomer was big, real big, but this kid had talent and was putting it to good use.
"All right, men, lean back and enjoy the show. We're gonna start the ceremony here." Elway announced. He turned toward the three MVPs in the front of the room and started to say something
"Allright... where the fuck is Brady!?"
The men all laughed and cheered, knowing full well the treatment Terrific Tom was getting just then.
"Don't worry, John, the guy's always late to these parties," one jock cried out.
"Yeah, always arrives late... and wet!" cried another.
The men erupted in laughter again, til Elway quieted them down. He laid out the ground rules. Each MVP would examine the line of inductees. The previous year's MVP, Gannon, would choose one inductee first, who would then have to service the Raider as he chose. Then, the current year Super Bowl MVP, Brady, got his turn. Finally, the current year NFL MVP would go. Since Manning and McNair share the honors they will each induct a QB Club member at the same time. After the initial induction round, the MVPs chose another round and the room was open to the end of season party.
Gannon, McNair, and Manning were all sitting down in large leather chairs next to the fireplace. McNair massaged his dick with one hand while caressing his rippling torso muscles with his other. Peyton just leaned back, resting his arms behind his head and showing off his trademark Southern boy smile. Rich spread his hairy legs and scooted his butt down in the seat, pushing up his hard man stalk for display to everyone. All three stared at the parade of college and rookie jocks waiting to be inducted. The other athletes spectating all watched in anticipation. It was time to get the party started.
(to be cont.)