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Troy's Jock Boys - Second Inning by Troy Storm

  • ISBN: 9781504501385
  • Written by: Troy Storm

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AUSTRALIAN FOOTBALL - What the hell kind of crazy-ass pick-up football game are the guys in the park playing? David leaps into the middle of the sweaty, hunky, hard-driving bunch and finds he's got to hustle to keep from wiping out on the field and off. BASKETBALL - Danny gets an unbelievable chance to hit on the new freshman basketball star, thanks to the kid's sister and his adoring fans. But he blows it. Given a second chance, will he be able to man up and go after what he wants? SPECTATOR SPORTS - While watching the Olympics on TV, four buddies get into a discussion of the assets of the male athletes that leads to one of the young dudes challenging whether they are going to talk the talk or walk the walk. Good question. RACQUETBALL - Stiffed by a self-centered, smug racquetball player at the local club, an annoyed player decides to show the shit-head there's more to life than slamming a ball against the wall. FOOTBALL -Tank, star linebacker of his college team, is discovered by his roommates to be having a blistering hot sex dream. Will the quarterback run interference at his embarrassment? Or will his roomies prove to be understanding teammates? Four guesses. WRESTLING - The kid wants to be a pro wrestler. His dad gets a chance to put him in front of his TV hero. The kid is hot and horny. What's a big star who's used to having his way to do? 

Warnings: This title contains graphic language and sex.

 
Word Count: 20,000
 

      

EXCERPT:

The crotch won. Did I mention the crotch—the frontside that was more than equal to the phenomenal backsides? 'Cause when he turned and stormed toward me and I glommed onto even more battle action going on in his front than had been going on in back, I realized the guy either had an extra racquet handle stuffed in his jock or he was a man I wanted badly to become acquainted with.
Well, here was my chance. He was paralyzed at my feet, staring wide-eyed at my cocked leg ready to drive my foot into his teeth.
However, having thought about it, it seemed to me I would be better served if I kicked his legs apart and got another look at the sweat-wet weapon he was trying to conceal. So I did.
That really woke him up. Air poured into his lungs, he spread those bulging thighs and heaved himself up and aimed for my throat. I had to admit, even if it was the last sight I caught sight of, what I had caught sight of would be something to take with me to that great gay way in the sky.
The man had a hard-on the size of my forearm.
Now, whatever his problem might be, my priorities had suddenly shifted. Having seen, I wanted to handle. I wanted to make love, not war. He came at me like an enraged wart hog.
Okay, how many enraged wart hogs have any of us encountered (outside of last night perhaps at the local meat rack)? I just so happen to be an aficionado of PBS specials on various wild life and wart hogs are not a pretty sight.
I'm also an aficionado of self-preservation. I sidestepped him and chopped the side of my hand down on the top of his shoulders. He produced another impersonation of falling timber.
God, he was persistent! Up and at me again, raging like a wounded wart... Oh, well, you get the picture. I wondered if he was as determined in bed.
I danced away, screaming. “Look, I can keep pounding your ass, or I can say, I'm sorry I upset you.” His pole was like iron in his pants. How the fuck did he keep it up it when all the blood in his body must be in his stupid head? The man was a bundle of fascinating need-to-knows.
He swung at me. I ducked and came up behind him. “How do you keep a hard-on when you're so fucking angry? I'm fucking impressed.”
He swung again, and this time I grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him into the heavy plate-glass window. Anybody loping by would get an eyeful of his bounteous beauty, but I knew we were the only guys around.
“Ungh!” He slowly revolved, looking a little loopy and slid down onto his ass on the floor. I straddled him. Inside his sweat-soaked shorts, his third leg punched up against my caressing buns. Jeez, the package was huge...and hot! My ass cheeks were roasted. Saliva poured into my mouth. Precum poured into my jock.
“Can I see it?” I scooted back on his legs, and shoved both hands into his crotch and grabbed hold. “You scarfed down too many Viagras and you're trying to work it off before you kill the trick who's waiting to meet you outside, right?” I smugly guessed at the reason for his enormous bone.
He blinked. I wasn't sure I was getting through. I squeezed. It was maple solid. A warm fizzy feeling began to burrow up from my bottom. “Is it real? You're a traveling dildo salesman and you've stuffed the Blasphemous Butt Buster model into your shorts for safe keeping, right?”
He took a deep breath and shook his head. He was a hell of lot better looking when he wasn't mouthing gender-erasing threats.
He blinked again, focused hard on me and then leaned forward and locked his lips to mine.
Now it was time for me to be startled. Stunned.
His mouth was the equal of his butt and his basket. Mesmerized by the instant reversal in his attitude, as well as the amazing probing tongue action, we sucked face for a few minutes until I was gasping for breath. He was coming round now, and my reciprocal mouth action seemed to please him enormously.


This book was added to our catalog on Friday 20 November, 2015.

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