Taking Loads From the Football Guy - Part 2: Peter Joins In

Everyone is 18.

“That was hot,” I said, still coming back to life.

“I think I’ll get a lot of use out of you,” he said back, “See you at school tomorrow.”

Then, even though we hadn’t finished the project, he walked out of my room and left the house. After the amazing first fuck he had just given me, I wasn’t even mad. I sat at my desk, finished the assignment, and put both our names on it like a good boy. I couldn’t wait to find out what kind of “use” he was going to get out of me.

At school, Kevin didn’t pay any more attention to me than normal, so I just quickly moved on and assumed it was a one-time thing. But, I was thrilled that I had finally had success in getting some dick inside me. And, it was amazing. He went slow enough that I really enjoyed it by the end, and he got off inside me and loved it himself. The whole event boded well for the future of my sex life, which, honestly, was kind of my biggest priority at the time.

The next weekend, Peter said he was having a sleepover with a friend, and apparently Mom told him he could use my room since I have the bigger TV in it. It was annoying, and I don’t know why they would want to hang in my room when they were two years old than me, and when his room was right down the hall, but I decided it was fine with me, as long as I could do my thing in my own space as well. This would clearly mean I would have to hide the evidence of my sexual proclivities, and probably jerk off in the bathroom as well so I could get some sleep, but I acquiesced. The night of the sleepover, it actually turned out to be pretty pleasant.

The soft hum of cicadas filled the air, the kind of sound that only later summer, early autumn nights could bring. My bedroom was dimly lit by the glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. Peter and a couple of neighborhood friends were sprawled out on the floor, playing cards and laughing too loudly for the late hour. I sat cross-legged on my bed, pretending to focus on the game, but my phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down at the screen.

"Come outside," the text from Kevin read. My stomach fluttered, my throat tightening. "I want to fuck."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my ribs. How the hell was I supposed to get out? Peter was right there, his sharp eyes darting up to me every so often like he could sense something was off. I typed back quickly, my fingers trembling. "Can’t. Sleepover."

The response was instant. "Your back yard. Now."

I looked at Peter, who was now arguing with one of the guys about the rules of the game. My chest tightened with a mix of fear and excitement. I slid off the bed, trying to act casual. “Bathroom,” I muttered, though no one seemed to care, except Peter, who eyed me suspiciously. 

I slipped out of the room and down the hallway, my socked feet silent on the hardwood. The warm early autumn heat clung to the air even inside, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickle down my spine. I pushed open the back door, the screen door creaking softly as I stepped into the backyard. The moon hung low, casting a silver glow over the grass. Kevin was already there, leaning against the fence, his silhouette tall and broad against the moonlight. His dirty blonde hair caught the reflection from the white house, shimmering with the slightest hint of moisture. His arms, thick and muscular from years of football, crossed over his chest, and my mouth went dry.

“Took you long enough,” he said, his voice low and teasing. He stepped forward, closing the distance separating our bodies. The air between us felt charged, electric. He reached for me and quickly spun me around to face the wall. I put my hands up to give him free reign over me. The front of my shorts grew tight, and my hole literally quivered a bit with the nerves of anticipation as he started running his hands down my sides.

I opened my mouth to try to say something sexy about how I felt in the moment, but the sound of the back door creaking open again cut me off. I froze, my heart slamming in my chest. Turning, I saw Peter stepping out, his dark hair messy, his eyes narrowed. He was shirtless, his lean chest glistening slightly in the warm night air, and the outline of his athletic abs and v-line showing clearly above the soccer shorts hanging low on his hips. 

My stomach twisted. Kevin stepped back to see what would happen, and I turned to Peter.

“What’s going on?” he whispered loudly, his tone sharp.

“Nothing,” I stammered, my voice cracking. “Just… getting some air.”

Peter’s eyes flicked to Kevin, who was still standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Peter’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze lingering on Kevin.

Kevin smirked, unfazed. “Just hanging out,” he said, his tone casual.

Peter didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the three of us stood there in tense silence, the cicadas the only sound.

Then Kevin moved, stepping behind me, his chest pressing against my back. His hands slid around my waist, and I felt his breath on my neck. My body went rigid, my pulse racing.

“What the—” Peter started, but Kevin cut him off.

“You want in, or you just gonna watch?” Kevin’s voice was low, almost a growl.

I could see the conflict in Peter’s eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You’re insane,” Peter muttered, but he didn’t stop.

Kevin’s hands tightened on my hips, and I could feel his hardness pressing into my lower back. My knees went weak. Peter was inches away now, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

“Come on,” Kevin said, his voice a whisper. “You know you want to.”

Peter hesitated for only a second before he closed the distance, his hands gripping my shoulders. His touch was firm, almost possessive, and I could feel the heat of his body mingling with Kevin’s.

Kevin’s lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “You’re gonna take us both, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t speak. My body was on fire, every nerve alight with a bizarre desire. Of course the thought of Peter’s thick cock had entered my mind against my will over the years. I sat in my room wishing for dick while I pounded myself with a zucchini or a TV remote, and I was aware that there was cock down the hall from my room, but it was Peter, it was wrong. I could see Peter was tortured over the same feelings, but he got over them sooner than I did.

His hands slid down my chest, his fingers brushing over my nipples, making me gasp. Kevin’s hands dipped lower, slipping under the waistband of my shorts, as Peter grabbed my shirt from behind my neck and pulled it off of me in one swift motion.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, the sound of our breathing mingling with the hum of the night. Peter leaned in, his lips grazing my neck, the soft skin of his face felt pleasant against me.

“This is so fucked up,” Peter muttered just as Kevin pulled my shorts low enough to expose my robust cheeks, but his voice was strained, and his hands didn’t stop moving.

Kevin chuckled, low and dark. “Yeah, but it’s hot as hell.”

“You’re a kinky fuck,” Peter said.

My head was spinning, my body caught between them. Kevin’s fingers pushed my shorts down further, and I felt the cool night air on my exposed skin, airing out my hard sweaty pole and my balls. They laid me down on the grass, working in tandem, as Peter’s hands hooked under my thighs, lifting me slightly as Kevin positioned himself in front of my hole.

The first press of Kevin’s cock against my entrance sent a jolt through me. I gasped, my fingers digging into Peter’s shoulders. It was tight, almost too tight, but Kevin didn’t stop. My eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed in, the stretch almost unbearable. I had almost forgotten about the importance of lube. I reached into the pocket of my shorts on the ground beside me, and pulled out a small bottle with a silly name on it. I handed to bottle to Kevin, assuming he would know what to do. He quickly squirted a generous amount onto his shaft and pushed in further. My mouth opened silently, echoing the intensity of the penetration, and Peter looked down at me from above, and spit directly into my mouth. 

I was shocked that he would consider doing something like that, but the taboo nature of the night only made the surreal experience more primitively exciting. 

Suddenly Peter’s lips found mine, his kiss rough and urgent. Had he had pent up feelings for me? 

His tongue dipped into my mouth, and I moaned, the sound muffled against his lips. Kevin’s hips snapped forward, burying himself deep inside me. The pain mixed with a sharp pleasure, a heady rush that made my toes curl as my legs wrapped around Kevin and held him tightly inside me.

Peter’s hands moved to my cock, stroking me in time with Kevin’s increasingly rapid thrusts. His grip was firm, his fingers calloused from years of sports. I could feel myself getting close, the pressure building in my core. Kevin dug a thumb into my taint and massaged my balls as well, as his pace quickened. His cock hit that spot inside me that made my vision blur, and my body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alight with sensation. Peter’s lips moved to my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

“You’re taking both of us,” he whispered, his voice rough. “And you’re gonna love it. I always knew you were made for this.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt myself unraveling. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing as I came, spilling over Peter’s hand. Kevin’s thrusts grew erratic, and with a low groan, he buried himself deep, his release flooding inside me.

Peter’s grip tightened, and I felt his cock pressing against my lips. I opened my mouth, letting him in, the taste of him sharp and salty on my tongue. Kevin pulled out slowly, his breath ragged, and the empty feeling in my hole was quickly replaced with two of Peter’s fingers. He used the cum inside me as lube to start rapidly vibrating his fingers inside me, hitting spots I’d never even felt during the fucking.

He thrust himself in my mouth once more, twice, then spilled into the back of my throat. His hot essence reminded me of my own, unlike that of Kevin. The stunning vibrato in my hole and the taste of cum in my mouth pushed me to the edge again more quickly than I imagined possible, and Peter saw what was happening, and grabbed my member with his free hand and, in one stroke, coaxed another release out of me that squirted onto my slender abs.

For a moment, the world stood still. My body was trembling, my mind a haze of pleasure and guilt, and as I lay on my back looking up to the sky, I suddenly  noticed how visible the stars were. I was quickly hit with the post-nut fear of getting caught, but it truly only made the situation more erotic, the rush of adrenaline mixing with the satisfaction of being filled.

Peter stepped back, his chest heaving. The three of us stood there, our bodies slick with sweat, the summer night heavy around us.

Peter, shaking the cum off his hands, and his big dick hanging satisfied between his thighs, was the first to speak, his voice low. “This never happened.”

Kevin chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Never.”

I nodded, my voice trapped in my throat.

Peter turned and walked back toward the house, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows. Kevin lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning my face.

“You’re trouble,” he said, his voice soft.

“Me?” I demanded, wondering how he could have put what happened that night onto me.

Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the backyard, the weight of what had just happened settling over me like a blanket. The cicadas hummed, the night stretched on, and I lay back down on the grass, staring up at the bright moon and trying to find the constellation Orion, feeling raw and alive and utterly, completely ravaged.