Page 57 of Built To Perform

Brayden shoving my legs apart, spreading me on the wood to push his face between my thighs. Tongue digging into the soft heat beneath my balls, eager to press back into my hole, while Donny’s mouth closed around the sensitive head of my cock.

I gasped, left breathless all over again at the flood of pleasure. Wanting to bat at his head, push him away and temper the glorious torment, but left too weak to do little more than flail and whimper.

Well, flail, whimper, and watch wide-eyed as Jefferson shoved his sweatpants down and slapped his thick, half-hard cock across my lips. Grinning as he did it, a playful, eager expression that only made me want him more.

“You did promise, lil bro.”

I had, and I’d meant it, too. Opening my mouth wide in what I knew he’d see as the invitation I intended, even if past experience had demonstrated my team captain’s girth made a more traditional approach to blowjobs tricky.

What I lacked in the ability to dislocate my jaw, though, I liked to think I made up for in enthusiasm. The way Jefferson’s fingers tightened in my hair suggested my combination of licking, slobbering, and sucking on as much of him as I could was not unrewarding.

I’d never expected sucking his dick to take me back to the way I felt when we sparred together. The difference in scale of our bodies so distinct, so clear: yes, I was bigger than the average freshman, but Jefferson made me look normal. Mind-blowing, then, to have his huge arms wrap around me; to have him crush me to the floor; to realize, for all I’d hefted weights, and followed my meal plans, and generally done the very best I could as an athlete, I could still be at the mercy of a bigger, stronger man.

At one time the idea of that would’ve been galling, a motivation to train harder. And I couldn’t exactly say that competitiveness had disappeared completely, or even for the most part. Just that, with Jefferson, it was special.

“Fuck, lil bro, I love your mouth so much.”

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, to keep from instantly flooding Donny’s mouth. Something about Jefferson praise landed differently.

He dragged his dick across my face, smearing precum and drool over my cheeks, my nose, even my forehead. Marking me with his scent, and the idea of it - the thought of Jefferson’s invisible brand on me, like my big bro was claiming territory - left me breathless.

I reached for him; an aimless, desperate grab at whatever I could get. One fist around his thick shaft, another on his hip; dragging him in closer and holding him there so that I could work my tongue around the hard, swollen flare of his cockhead. Senses overwhelmed, his taste flooding my mouth, and only distantly aware of Brayden lifting my legs further as the three wrestlers pretzeled me on the bench.

All too easy then, to imagine the fingers grinding into my ass were Jefferson’s dick; that I’d somehow slipped into a parallel world where he could fill me at both ends so thoroughly. Wanting to beg Donny to slow his sucking, even as he released my jerking prick and licked his way to my balls; wanting to cum and yet wanting to delay things, too, to hold back the overwhelming waves of cresting pleasure I knew were in my future. Savor them, and this all-encompassing sense of my teammates enclosing me in a bubble of intimacy I had no words for, only an insatiable hunger.

And like always, aspiration came crashing into reality as Brayden squeezed another finger into my clenching hole and Donny’s tongue traced around my stretched ass, and it was too much. Far, far too much.

The orgasm borderline-painful, setting my vision tunneling. A punch to my insides, as my stomach cramped and the first heavy splash of cum hit my face and Jefferson’s cock. The angle Brayden had contorted me to proving perfect, as my twitching dick spewed messily across my mouth and cheeks.

“Oh fuck.”

Those two words my only warning; well, that and the way Jefferson’s tip swelled even further in my sloppy, cum-slicked mouth. A heartbeat before he was flooding me, and only an instant later before the intermingled goo of our loads was spilling over my stretched lips. Too much - too much cum, and too much dick, and too much desperate panting that bubbled through the musky glaze - as I tried to avoid choking.

Jefferson stumbled back, expression dazed. Only the briefest glimpse of it, though, before Donny’s grin filled my blurry vision. Lips still wet from where he’d blown me.

“Hey,” he murmured, and then before I could reply he was kissing me again.

His tongue pressed into my mouth, sending fresh waves of well-churned cream dripping down my cheeks and over my chin. The sensation of it - wet trickles down the sides of my face and onto my neck - dragging me back from my post-orgasm stupor, to clutch at his shoulders and kiss him back as best I could.

By the time Donny pulled away, his face very nearly as messy as mine, he was breathless.

I let my head drop back onto the bench with a dull wooden thud. Too tired to move, even when Brayden grabbed my face in his hand and pinched my cheeks, playfully.

“Now we know you’re back on the team, lil bro.”

I tried my best to grin, with lips that felt like rubber.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Brayden. Before you hit the weights room, fill these in.”

What looked like an inch-high stack of papers was dumped on the senior’s lap. He looked up, confusion and dismay on his face.

“What is all this, sir?”

Coach crossed his arms across his wide chest. “Financial aid application. I don’t know if it was ego or ignorance that made you overlook the support this school offers its students, but you should know by now that neither is an acceptable excuse for athletes on this team. Understood?”

Brayden nodded. “Yes, sir.”