The Joc and the Sissy

[pre-story]So, this happened. Mostly, I just wanted to try writing something new, something I hadn't tried before, and I've had a lot of requests for gay stuff. Personally, I consider myself like, a 1 or a 2 on the Kinsey scale, but I've never felt particularly inspired to write about male-on-male stuff, and, obviously, the market leans toward straight stuff. But then I started writing, and the story just kept coming! Inspiration is a fickle mistress.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: all characters are 18 or older

Content warnings: Unrealistic anatomy, huge cock, excessive cum, homophobic slurs.[/pre-story]

The Jock and the Sissy

At first glance, Brad looked like the stereotypical dumb jock, with a looming, six-eight, musclebound body, broad shoulders usually draped in a loose-fitting jersey, short-buzzed black hair, a square jaw with perpetual stubble and a heavy brow that made him look like vaguely caveman-ish. But appearances are often deceiving. While he wasn't particularly smart (or, at least, didn't consider himself to be), he thought of himself as a rather accepting, progressive sort of guy, a counterpoint to the stereotypical homophobic bully jock. Unfortunately, in his smallish, semi-rural town, he was definitely the exception to the rule, and the rest of the football team was more than happy to live up to that expectation. Though, they quickly learned that Brad wouldn't tolerate bullying in his presence, and he was big and strong enough to make the fight not worth it, even for a group of them.

That wasn't to say they didn't do any bullying. Brad couldn't be everywhere at once, after all. There was one target in particular the team loved to pick on when Brad wasn't around. Sam. Short and slim, with mid-length tousled brown hair, even though he was a fellow senior it was easy enough to mistake him for a freshman... or a girl, if you looked at him from the back. It turned out he had some sort of medical thing where he didn't make testosterone right, and by the time he'd found out about it, it was too late, puberty had passed him by. It left him looking, well... girly. Barely any muscle, almost no body hair, and a face that tread the line between 'childish' and 'feminine'.

Sam was an easy target for bullies, but thankfully, he had Brad on his side. Ever since freshman year, when Brad had stepped in to stop a couple varsity players from beating him up, Sam had been following him around like a lost puppy. The team didn't bully him when they were together, and Brad didn't mind his presence (or help with his math homework). At first, they weren't really friends, just sorta stuck together, but over time they'd bonded. Turned out sports weren't so boring to watch once you actually understood what was going on, and once he got over his initial hesitation, Brad discovered he actually really liked anime (though he preferred dubs, the philistine).

Unfortunately for Sam, Brad wasn't always there. When he'd been called out of lunch to go talk with Coach Holland about a scholarship, Sam knew he was in trouble. When the team closed in on him from all sides, like a pack of wolves, his suspicions were proven right. Jeff had thrown his arm around Sam's shoulders and smiled and laughed like they were old friends as he guided the smaller boy out into the hall, the rest of the team falling in around them once they were away from the watchful eyes of the teachers. Soon the mask of friendliness was gone, and he was being forcefully led through the halls and outside into the rain-soaked grass, the team forming a living wall of cover to hide him as they dragged him around behind the gym, where the new equipment building was being built.

When Brad finally caught up to them, he found the team standing in a circle in the shallow pit dug for the shed's foundation, the loose earth turned to slick mud by the morning's rain. They laughed and mocked and hurled insults as Sam sobbed, struggling to push himself up to his feet, completely covered in mud. He managed to get up to his knees, futilely trying to wipe the mud from his face with equally muddy hand, when Jeff rushed forward, planted a foot on his chest, and shoved hard, roughly sending the slender male toppling, sliding a few inches with the force of the push. Steve made some comment about pigs and mud, and the rest of the team laughed, but neither Sam or Brad were really listening at that point.

Brad managed to unclench his fists and fish out his cell phone, whistling to draw the team's attention as he fired up the video camera. The squad looked over, one by one, then froze, their victim all but forgotten. A look passed among their number, an uncertainty. Usually when somebody tried to film them doing shit like this, the standard procedure was to beat their ass, break their phone, and take the memory card out. But then, this was Brad, not some normie they could easily overpower. Dwayne was the first to turn from the group and walk away, but it didn't take long for the rest to do the same, Jeff muttering something deeply offensive under his breath as he shuffled off. As much as he really wished one of them had been dumb enough to throw a punch, that would work.

Once the group was clear, Brad pocketed his phone again and stepped down into the pit without a moment's hesitation, quickly walking over. "Lil' bro? You hurt?" He asked, kneeling down in the mud, offering his friend a hand.

Sam took the hand, shoulders still quaking, and managed to pull himself up to his knees. "I..." He began, only to suddenly break down into tears again, collapsing against Brad's chest, muddy hands clinging to his jersey as he sobbed uncontrollably.

Brad was not usually one to engage in anything more intimate than a chest-bump/pat on the back, but at the moment, he knew his friend needed more than that. His arms wrapped around Sam's shoulders, cradling him gently. "It's okay, bro. You're okay. I'm here for you, bro." He reassured. "I'm gonna take care of this." He added, suddenly reaching down and scooping Sam up in his arms, getting mud all over his arms and chest in the process, then stood, easily lifting his weight.

Brad moved quickly and surely, carrying Sam out of the pit and in the back door of the gym, taking a sharp turn to carry him into the locker room. There were, thankfully, no gym classes after lunch (too many puking incidents), so the locker room was empty. Brad's footsteps rang off the tiled walls and ceiling as he carried his friend into the showers and gently eased him down, setting him on his feet. Sam still hadn't let go of his jersey, and he put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Listen, bro, I've got a set of gym clothes you can borrow." He explained, ever the practical problem solver. "Might be a little big, but it's better than naked or wet, right? And I've got a swimsuit and a spare jersey I can wear, too. Lets wash up and get changed, and we can figure out how we're gonna handle this afterward. Okay, bro?" He asked, a small, reassuring smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

Sam nodded, unable to muster an objection to the plan through the stifled sobs and sniffles, and finally let go of Brad's jersey. With that handled, Brad swiftly straightened up and began to strip off his muddy clothes, tossing them into a pile just outside the communal shower area, and Sam soon followed suit. As the water turned on and they began to wash away the mud, Sam couldn't help but look over at Brad. They were so... different from each other. Sas had tousled light brown hair and big blue eyes, while Brad had short-buzzed black hair and soulful chestnut-brown eyes. His features were delicate and soft, while Brad's face looked like it was carved out of a mountainside, rugged and angular, with a square, stubble-covered jaw that made him look like an action hero. He was short, slim, and almost hairless, but Brad was a looming tower of muscles, thick slabs of granite muscle stacked on top of one-another like bricks, covered over with a dense coat of dark hair that clung to his physique like climbing ivy. He had broad, square shoulders, powerful pecs, chest hair so thick it looked like a bear pelt, a rugged eight-pack of abs, biceps like softballs, and corded forearms leading to big, strong, calloused hands...

Brad's legs were equally impressive, Sam was sure, but he could never really concentrate on them, considering that, any time he could see them, he found himself distracted by the truly enormous shaft swinging between his thighs. He'd never seen it hard, but even soft, it was almost big as his forearm, emerging from a dark tangle of short, curly hair and hanging almost halfway down his thigh, long and thick with a flared knob at the end, swaying in front of a pair of equally massive balls, hanging heavily like ripe plums in his hairy sack. Sam, meanwhile, had a dick that was barely long enough to emerge from his fist when he jerked off, and testicles that were more like grapes.

Sam felt a strange, yet familiar tingle in his belly as he found himself staring at his best friend's endowment. It was vaguely... humiliating. How could anyone compare the two of them and call them both 'men'? How could he even call himself a man, when there was a REAL man right in front of him? His penis was a toothpick compared to that monster! It was shameful. And yet...

"...Brad?" Sam spoke up, breaking the near-silence hanging over the showers.

Brad opened his eyes."Yeah, lil bro?" He asked, casually.

"...I really owe you for saving me again." Sam muttered, his voice quiet.

Brad smirked. "You can buy me some nuggets after school and we'll call it even." He shot back.

"You've been protecting me all these years..." Sam continued, his voice trembling slightly.

"Bro, don't worry about it. You're my bro! Bros have each other's backs." Brad dismissed.

"...I can't protect you." Sam muttered, admitting what they both knew, on some level, was true.

Brad shook his head resolutely, turning to face Sam. "That's not true, man!" He objected, only to furrow his brow as he struggled to think of an example to support his claim.

Sam looked up at Brad, his big, blue eyes still kinda red and puffy from crying. "I can't protect you, so... So let me be... useful, at least." He pleaded, one hand reaching out hesitantly to come to rest on Brad's rugged abs.

"...Bro?" Brad muttered, confused. The nature of the offer became clear when Sam sank to his knees on the hard tile floor, maintaining eye contact as he leaned forward and gently, almost shyly kissed Brad's monstrous member. "BRO!" Brad exclaimed in shock, but found himself unable to pull away.

Sam wasn't sure what he was doing either, but his free hand came up and wrapped around the base of Brad's monstrous, flaccid shaft, hefting its weight. "Just... let me do this for you, please... Close your eyes and pretend I'm a girl." He muttered, apologetically, as he leaned in and kissed the vein-studded length once again. Even freshly-washed, Brad's cock smelled strongly of sweat and body odor, the smell of a jock, a thick, musky, manly scent that filled Sam's nostrils and flooded his brain. It was hot and salty on his lips.

Brad was frozen, his mind spinning its wheels uselessly, his eyes locked with Sam's as his best friend kneeled on the tile in front of him, Brad's cock on his lips. Brad knew he could stop this. He should stop this. Sam was his friend, and he wasn't gay! Neither was Sam, or so he'd thought! Not that there was anything wrong with it, but... And yeah, the team called him gay when they were shoving him around, but then, Josh had called a book a faggot last week, so Brad wasn't sure they really knew what the words actually meant... But still, Sam had never mentioned being attracted to guys!

While his mind was paralyzed, his body responded, his member twitching and pulsing at the touch of soft lips, growing a fraction larger, harder. Sam was the one to break eye-contact, pulling his gaze away from Brad's face to marvel at the monolithic member in front of him, the gentle throbbing silent encouragement. It was just so big and fat and musky and hairy and... male. He envied what that shaft embodied, he craved it, he worshiped it. This was a COCK, a real man's cock, belonging to the biggest, strongest, noblest, and kindest man he'd ever met. His eyes flicked back up to Brad's as he leaned forward again, his lips parting, tongue lolling from his mouth to drag over his length in a long, slow, sensual lick. The salty, musky flavor was a thousand times stronger on his tongue than his lips, and a soft, throaty groan escaped his open lips at the taste of the beast.

Sam threw himself into his self-appointed task. His lips, tongue, hand, and cheeks slid this way and that, kissing, licking, stroking and rubbing at Brad's manly cock, softly panting and moaning in the empty, echoing locker room showers. With each touch, the meaty member grew larger and larger, longer, thicker, fatter, harder, the veins winding over its length pulsing as it stiffened bit by bit, struggling to lift its own weight. "Mmmf... Fuck... It's so.... Big..." Sam muttered quietly between licks, his words almost lost beneath the sound of the shower next to them.

As the beast grew, so did Sam's fervor, the smaller boy dipping down beneath the looming pillar of manhood to bury his face in Brad's big, fat balls, breathing deep of the jock's potent, musky scent, the hair tickling his nose. His mind swam and he opened his mouth and sucked one heavy nut between his tender lips, the plum-sized sphere completely filling his mouth, sloshing with backed-up cum on his tongue. Brad let out a strangled groan, his eyes locked on the scene below, the tendons at the root of his cock grinding as they hauled his monstrous cock fully upright.

Sam let the massive ball slip from his lips with a pop as he fell back to sit on his heels, staring up, awestruck, at the shaft jutting proudly from Brad's hips. It had to be a foot long, at least, nearly the size of his forearm, the pale flesh swollen and flushed red, wound over with dark, bulging veins, the helmet-shaped crown glistening like an apple. Sam swallowed, nervously, the taste of Brad's musky ball-sweat still fresh on his tongue. This was even more than he'd expected, and yet, seeing it like this, in all its glory, it looked perfectly fitting on Brad's hulking, powerful frame. Sam's big, blue eyes roamed up, drinking in Brad's abs and chest once more before locking onto Brad's deep, soulful eyes. There was a moment of silence, neither of them saying anything, trying to read each other's expressions to no avail.

Slowly, silently, Sam raised himself up on his knees, leaning forward, lips parting, tongue lolled out, eyes locked on Brad's as the hand at the root of the monumental cock angled it down, the gleaming head aimed straight for Sam's wet, pink tongue. Brad's cock lurched as Sam drew close, his body lusting for the warm, wet embrace even as his mind struggled to reconcile his supposed straightness with the desires consuming him. The crown pressed into Sam's soft, pink tongue, and Brad could only stare, eyes locked with Sam's as he pushed his head forward, jaws opening further, tender lips stretching slightly to encircle the massive knob, the beast almost too big to fit comfortably. It filled his mouth, his cheeks slightly bulged by its girth, his tongue pinned against his teeth as it reached out past his lips, wiggling against the underside of the shaft. The shaft throbbed again on Sam's tongue, harder than before, and Brad let out a deep, rumbling groan as uncertainty, reason, and logic gave up the fight, crumbling beneath a tide of desire.

One massive hand suddenly came forward, grabbing Sam's head, strong, calloused fingers weaving into the boy's wet hair, holding his skull tight, palming it like a basketball. Sam froze at the touch, eyes wide. Was this it? Had he gone too far? He could see it happening now, brad yanking him off by the hair, calling him all the hurtful names the team usually hurled at him, betrayal in his eyes, before stomping off to leave him naked, wet, and cold in the showers. He'd ruined everything, he lamented, silently. Brad's powerful arm flexed, and Sam braced himself for the throw, only to suddenly gag violently as Brad's monster cock suddenly slammed into the entrance to his throat.

Sam panicked as his throat spasmed and he coughed around the monster between his lips, eyes watering in an instant. Brad's grip loosened, and Sam fell back, sputtering and coughing. Brad began to shift, his expression turning to concern, but Sam's grip at the base of his cock tightened, and he held up the other hand to stop him. "Wait-" Sam insisted, only to suddenly cough once again. "I'm- I'm fine, just... Surprised..." He added, swallowing, the act clearly taking some effort. He swiftly rose up on his knees again, pushing himself back into position, Brad's beastly member poised at his lips. "Let me... Let me try again."

Sam's lips stretched once again as his warm, wet mouth engulfed Brad's massive, throbbing crown. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, even as his heart pounded in his chest. This whole situation was absolutely crazy. He had Brad's cock in his mouth, and it felt absolutely enormous, and now he was going to try and fit it into his throat? He could taste his friend's salty, musky precum on his tongue, and his own member was hard as stone. It was crazy, but... he wanted to do it. He pushed his head forward, taking the thick, meaty club deeper into his mouth.

Sam felt the shaft bump against the entrance of his throat, and forced himself to remain calm. His eyes squeezed a little tighter as he forced himself to swallow, the muscles in his throat rippling as he pushed himself forward again. The feeling of that enormous crown suddenly wedging itself in his throat was... very, very strange, to say the least. His throat tried to spasm and dislodge the blockage, but Sam forced the instinct down. He swallowed again, and felt the fearsome shaft push another inch deeper, felt the skin of his throat stretch around the monstrous invader. His throat wasn't made for this, it felt so strange and unnatural...

Suddenly, Sam heard a deep, rumbling groan from above. His big, blue eyes opened, looking up through the watery tears building up as he strained to take the beast into his tight little throat, and saw Brad, his face contorted with pleasure as he looked down at him, hands by his sides, balling into fists over and over again, grabbing at handfuls of empty air. It looked like it felt so.. amazing. His throat felt that good, HE was making Brad feel that good... Sam reached up, wordlessly, and grabbed Brad's empty hands, pulling them forward and guiding them into place on his own head. Brad looked shocked for a moment, eyes locked with Sam's, uncertain. Sam gave a tiny nod, as much of one as he could give with that iron shaft wedged into his throat, and swallowed again, muscles rolling over the length in his throat.

Brad couldn't resist such an invitation. His hands gripped onto Sam's head, his friend's head, holding it tightly in place. His arms flexed, pulling Sam down onto his shaft, feeting that incredibly tight throat stretching around him, each ring of muscle parting before his throbbing, steely shaft. It felt too damn good, he couldn't stop his hips, his hard, muscular ass tightening, pushing his shaft further and further into his friend's throat. He kept pulling as he unconsciously pushed forward, a slow, steady motion, inch after inch of throbbing, veiny cock disappearing between his tender lips.

Sam had to focus to keep himself from gagging again as Brad pushed him down onto that mammoth meat inch by inch. His throat bulged obscenely, that beast had to be halfway to his stomach by now, but there was still so much more cock left... His lungs were starting to ache with need for fresh air, but he couldn't move, Brad's hands were too big, too strong, it was like he was held in a vice, unable to so much as turn his head, Brad's powerful forearms blinding him to anything other his own glorious physique. That dense thicket of pubic hair grew closer and closer by the second, a wall of granite abs towering above it. This was so crazy, and yet, so insanely hot! He wanted more!