This was uploaded to my other account a while back. I've edited it since and added a lot more chapters. I will try to upload them once a week.
Enjoy, don't take it too seriously and leave a comment below
*
I'm a nerd. Well, I wouldn't call myself one, because honestly, I'm not that smart, but ever since I enrolled at Midwest Southeastern College, nerd is all that I seemed to be called.
While I suppose I was the most academically gifted person at the college, that really wasn't an achievement. Midwest Southeastern wasn't anyone's first, second, or fifth choice to study. The reason I enrolled was simply because I didn't think that I was going to graduate from high school, so I didn't bother applying for any colleges.
Surprisingly, my results weren't too bad, and I had three colleges give me offers. I chose Midwest Southeastern, as they gave me a full tuition scholarship if I became a tutor to struggling members of the football team.
When I first arrived at the college in late September, I went to introduce myself to the football team, naively thinking that I could bond with the players. I was very wrong. When the muscled jocks got tired of yelling nerd, loser and other more insulting remarks, I was ignored.
The day after, I headed to the Dean's office where I was allowed to look over the footballers' grades with the intention that I would help the ones most likely to fail. Now I know that you can get smart footballers, but it's far more likely that they are a bit dim. However, the ones who attended Midwest Southeastern were a special breed of dumb.
It quickly became apparent that the college had taken anyone with even the slightest hint of footballing talent, irrespective of what their grades were. The fact that the players were likely to fail their course wasn't an issue for Midwest Southeastern. All they wanted was a decent football team to gain some easy publicity.
Once I gathered that I wasn't actually needed, I had a great time. Not only was I getting close to a free ride, but I also wasn't expected to do anything for it. Joining the college's film club as well as the computer club, I made a couple of friends and began to enjoy myself and then five months later, my life changed.
In late November, the college football league passed a bill, meaning every player had to pass an English and math test by the end of January. Each player was allowed three attempts to pass the test, but if they failed, they were unable to play for the rest of the academic year.
Immediately, I was called to work with the team. When I looked over the test, I was amazed at how easy it was. A sixth-grader could have done it but these men, despite being at least eight years older, were struggling.
The team were all forced to attend a lesson with me, where I would go over the paper. Ten minutes in, I gave up. The cat calling had turned into paper throwing. There was no way that I could get them to listen. These men had an air of confidence that they would sail through, much like they had coasted through life. After all, it was easy being a jock.
On the first Saturday of January, the team filed into the hall to do their test. I had never seen an angrier looking bunch of men in my life. Twenty minutes into the two-hour-long time limit and all of them had left, high-fiving and laughing. It only took an hour for all the tests to be marked. Eight players had failed, and this was when I met Rocky.
He was a muscle-bound linebacker. Standing just over six feet tall, he had muscles on muscles. His thick blonde hair was cut short on the back and sides framing his strong chiseled face, and his piercing blue eyes would have made my legs tremble if it wasn't for the fact that he constantly insulted me.
"You need to teach me, nerd. I'm fucking awesome at English, it's this math bullshit that makes no sense. If I need to add something up, I'll use my phone! I don't need to fucking learn how to do it, for fuck's sake."
We were sitting in a study room in the campus library the day after the exam. If anyone had looked in, they would have laughed at the sight of us. Though I was only a couple of inches shorter than Rocky, he was easily twice my size. Sitting next to each other like we were, we looked every inch like the jock and nerd stereotypes.
"Totally..." I began, then stopped when I realized just how sad I sounded, "but we need to get this done, otherwise you can't play football."
"I just don't understand why. It's fucking pointless!" Rocky whined, "I know you like shit like this, adding and whatever, but I actually have important stuff to do, like training!"
"You think I want to do this!" I muttered under my breath, before speaking louder, " look you need to pass to play so you've got to learn shit like this."
The next test was in a week, which didn't really give me much time to get the idiot knowledgeable enough to pass a test, even one where the hardest question was X + 9 = 16.
*
Over the next couple of days, we settled into a routine. Each day, after Rocky finished his morning workout, he sauntered into the study room, still drinking a protein shake. After a quick barrage of insults, he sat down and, over the next hour, I tried to teach him basic math and English. As soon as the hour was up, he was gone and off to his next training session.
Each day he wore the same things, a cut-off tank top and loose baggy shorts. His bulging muscles would be glistening from his workout, and I had to constantly stop myself from staring too long. He was my ultimate wet dream, but I didn't want him to know that. All of his insults were nerd related. I hated to think what he would do and say to me if he found out I was gay.
It was a Thursday morning, and I was looking forward to the John Wick marathon I had organized with a couple of friends that weekend. I was reading a grade school textbook in preparation for the upcoming lesson when the study room door smashed open and Rocky rolled in.
"Fuck!" He grumbled, dumping his bag on the table.
Knowing that asking what was wrong would only annoy him, I kept silent.
"Fucking run out of my protein shake! If I don't have it, then I'll be fucking shit in training! Coach is already on my ass about defense... I don't need this shit!"
Though I could still hear him complaining, when he mentioned his ass, that was all I could think about. Just from the covert peeks I had risked, I knew his large muscular ass was magnificent, and I found myself wondering just how it would look in his football pants.
Maybe it was my dick thinking for me, or maybe I was thinking about my aching dick, but what I said next changed everything.
"You know, they say cum has lots of protein in it!"
Rocky still hadn't sat down and loomed over me.
"How much?" he asked, intrigued.
"What?" I replied, confused.
"How much protein is there in cum?" he said slowly, as if I was the thick one.
"Um, a couple of grams." I guessed.
Of course, I had no idea. It was something I had read years ago. I didn't even know if it was true, but it had stuck with me ever since.
"You reckon it's more than fifteen grams?"
Before I could stop myself, I let out a smart-ass reply, "sure, if you have enough of it."
He looked thoughtful for a while before his eyes lit up.
"I'll be back in a sec,"
"Um, remember, you can't leave the room. Not after last time..."
On the very first day of studying, Rocky, fed up with math and me, had left the room and returned to the gym. A librarian had seen and reported him to the dean and coach.
"Fine... I'll have to do it here," he sighed before looking at me, "turn the fuck away, nerd!"
I had been looking at him as he put his fingers in his shorts and began to pull them down. Hastily, I turned away and soon after, I heard the telltale sounds of him jerking off.
It had never crossed my mind that hearing a man masturbate would be as hot as it was. I heard him spit on his hand several times before continuing to beat off. Soon his breath got shorter and shorter, until finally, with a loud clenched groan, he came.
"How much protein is here, then? For fuck's sake, nerd, you can turn around!"
