Chapter 1
"Yeah, take that cock, puto." 18 year-old Chase Huxley vainly struggled to suppress his moans as he felt his virgin ass stretch and squeeze against the rigid cock taking his manhood. Sweat dripped from his tousled brown hair mixed with the spit that covered his face. His arms were tied up against a soccer goalpost as three golden-skinned Latino brothers ravished every inch of his muscular, rugby player body. Two of the brothers, twins, held Chase down as their tongues hungrily lapped and twirled around Chase's swollen nipples, hickey-covered neck, and sensitive ears.
The eldest brother, a tall hunk with a corded bodybuilder physique, tightly gripped Chase's ankles and pumped his spit-lubed cock hard and fast into the struggling jock. He moved one hand over to grip Chase's now-turgid cock and laughed. "Looks like our little maricon is enjoying this." The sight of Chase's leaking cock, and the sound of his desperate moans, spurred the Latin hunk to increase the pace of his animalistic fucking "Fuck, fuck, FUCK! I'm gonna breed this fucking puto! Yeah, take this real man's dick, I'm filling you up with my seed!"
Chase woke up with a start in the middle. A thin sheen of sweat coated his body and he felt a warm goo in his boxers. Fuckkkk. It was the horny teen's second wet dream in the past month. He quickly cleaned up and tried to avert his mind from the burning guilt at having such dirty fantasies as losing his virginity to a rough gangbang on a soccer field. Chase had been hopping on the "no fap" train for the past couple of weeks, believing that it would help him push himself even harder. The wet dreams and sick fantasies were just a part of the jock's price of achieving his physical and athletic peak.
Chase glanced at his phone. It was 5:30am. What the hell, I'm not falling back asleep. Might as well head to school early and hit the weight room while it's empty. He threw on a white cutoff tank and some cotton sweatpants before hopping into his truck and driving off to start the last day of his junior year.
Whether in the bustling halls of Washington High School, or by its verdant rugby pitch, eyes tended to linger on Chase Huxley. His presence, a potent fusion of medium brown hair kissed by autumn's palette and striking blue eyes that held an enigmatic depth, commanded attention with quiet authority. Standing tall at 5 '11", he wore his age with an athletic grace, his physique sculpted by the crucible of years of disciplined training on both the rugby and wrestling teams.
A few girls had even signed up to volunteer as managers for both the rugby and wrestling teams, specifically so they could get closer to Chase and ogle him during workouts. At rugby practice, each sprint, each pivot, exuded the raw, virile energy he poured into perfecting his craft. The jersey that clung to his form seemed to mold itself to the contours of his body, a canvas showcasing the artistry of athleticism. On the wrestling mat, his toned and sinewy body moved with precision, yet his golden skin would scatter sweat over the mat as well as his opponents. Wherever Chase went, whispers and stolen glances painted him as the embodiment of teenage dreams.
It helped that, as an 18-year-old high school junior, Chase was a year older than most of his peers. His ultra Type A mother, a pharmaceutical executive, had decided to "redshirt" him for a year in school, knowing the advantages this would grant him in the competitive world of sports scholarships.
Despite his good looks, Chase had a gentle soul and somewhat shy demeanor. He often blushed at the leering glances and flirtatious advances that girls and guys alike would throw at him. He was bisexual and had been dating Sara, a classmate and semi-elite gymnast in his year. Chase had a crush on the sweet, petitie, and mild-mannered blonde since middle school; so when she finally agreed to go out with him a couple years ago, she became the focus of his entire romantic attention. Every couple of weeks, he would surprise her with flowers, drive her out to watch the sunset from the bed of his truck, or snuggle up on her couch watching whatever show she wanted, usually something Chase himself could barely feign interest in, like the Bachelor or some other trashy reality show.
Sara claimed to want to save herself for marriage, so Chase and her never went all the way. Instead, Sara loved making out with the blue-balled stud, feeling his strong hands passionately run over her body and his hungry mouth desperately worshiping her soft lips. A few months ago, she started allowing Chase to go down on her - the inexperienced but eager jock spent hours watching videos on how to pleasure a girl with his tongue and felt proud that he could now make his girlfriend moan with pleasure and orgasm over his handsome face. Sara enjoyed toying with the sex-starved teen and seeing him get all flushed and horney.
She promised to give him his first blowjob sometime before the start of their senior year and loved the feeling of making the most attractive guy at school go crazy with lust. Alas, Sarah would be out of town for almost a month. She had flown out to some big gymnastics meet the day before and after the competition, her family would all go on a vacation to Italy.
After driving home and finishing his last day of school, Chase went for a short jog around the neighborhood. It was his second workout of the day, and he wanted to get the extra cardio to boost his summer cut. He spent almost the entire run thinking about sex, alternating between fantasies about taking things further with Sara and fleeting, quickly-suppressed memories of his sick dream from last night.
As Chase walked back into his home, he sniffed his armpits, detecting a mixture of fading deodorant and masculine musk. Sniffing himself was a weird habit he'd developed lately, one that always turned himself on a little. Being bisexual, whenever he messed around with Sara, he was always equal parts aroused by her feminine, soft curves and by his own ripped body and manly scent. Chase took a quick rinse in the shower and as he walked out with just a loose pair of athletic shorts on, he passed by his stepbrother Brad's usually-empty room.
Chase jumped a bit, somewhat startled by the presence of another person in the house. His mother was a workaholic and rarely left the office before 7pm, while Brad was about fifty miles away partying his way through his sophomore year at UT. Brad was sprawled out on his bed, wearing only a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs and holding what looked like a vape pen to his mouth. Brad finished his semester about a week ago and was spending a few days in Cancun with some of his SigEp bros. He must have ubered home from the airport earlier in the day.
