Chase arrived at the football field at precisely 6:15 PM, just as the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the lush, meticulously maintained turf. The facility was top-of-the-line, a testament to Washington High’s wealth and the high priority it placed on its football program. The field itself was surrounded by pristine bleachers, recently renovated with comfortable seating and state-of-the-art lighting that ensured every evening practice was as bright as day.
Chase, dressed in a skin-tight underarmour tank and 5-inch black shorts, felt a surge of excitement and nerves as he walked onto the field. His muscles were taut and ready, his brown hair slightly damp from a quick pre-practice shower. As he stepped onto the immaculate turf, he spotted his buddy Bull, already there, exuding cockiness and confidence as usual.
“Hey, Bull!” Chase called out, raising a hand in greeting.
Bull turned, his imposing figure almost dwarfing Chase. “Yo, Chase! Ready to crush it?”
“Always,” Chase replied with a grin, meeting Bull for a quick bro hug.
Not far from Bull, Mason was already goofing around, tossing a football up in the air and catching it with ease. Mason’s red hair gleamed in the fading sunlight, and his freckled face was split into a wide, mischievous grin.
“Chase! My man!” Mason called out, jogging over. “You ready to join the varsity squad and show these guys what’s up?” Mason played wide receiver on the JV squad for the past couple years and now, as a senior, it was his last shot to make varsity.
Chase laughed, feeling a bit more at ease with Mason’s infectious energy. “You bet, Mase. How about you? Ready to catch some passes?”
“Always ready, dude,” Mason replied, his tone light and carefree. “Just don’t let Bull throw any of those wobbly spirals at me, huh?”
Bull rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You wish, Mason. I’ve got a perfect spiral and you know it.”
As the three friends bantered, they couldn’t help but notice the groups of girls in the bleachers. They were clustered in small groups, some giggling and whispering as they watched the players on the field. A few were there to support their boyfriends, cheering them on and blowing kisses. Others were clearly there for the eye candy, their eyes lingering mostly on Chase and Bull.
Chase caught a few of their glances, feeling a mix of flattery and shyness. One group of girls, particularly bold, waved and called out, “Go get ‘em, Chase!”
He gave a polite nod and a smile, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. Bull, on the other hand, reveled in the attention, flexing his arms slightly and giving a cocky grin. “Looks like we’ve got some fans, boys,” he said, nudging Chase.
“Yeah, no pressure,” Chase replied with a laugh, feeling a bit of the nervous energy melt away.
Chase, Bull, and Mason made their way to the middle of the field, joining the other hopefuls as they began their warm-up routines. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the anticipation of proving themselves worthy of the team.
As the players assembled on the field for the start of tryouts, all eyes were drawn to the new head coach: Max Miller. Standing at an imposing 6'5", he was a mountain of a man, his physical presence commanding immediate attention and respect. His body was a testament to years of hard work and discipline; his muscles were well-defined, rippling beneath his fitted black polo shirt. The shirt was stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest, showcasing the formidable physique that lay beneath. His arms, adorned with a few visible veins, bulged as he gestured with the intensity of his speech.
Coach Miller’s short brown hair was neatly trimmed, a few strands of stubble accentuating his strong jawline. His face was a study in sharp angles—high, prominent cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and a pronounced brow that gave him an air of constant intensity. His deep-set eyes, dark and focused, seemed to penetrate through anyone who met his gaze. He effortless commanded repect in a way that few other men in their early-30s could, no matter how hard they tried.
He walked with a deliberate, purposeful stride, every step exuding confidence and authority. There was nothing casual about his movement; it was all measured, driven, and commanding. As he approached the group of players, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. He stood tall and unyielding, his sheer presence making it clear that he was not just a coach but a force to be reckoned with.
“Alright, listen up!” Coach Miller barked, his tone brooking no argument. “You’ve all come here to try out for this team, and I’m here to tell you what’s up. I don’t care about your stats from last year or what you think you know about football. What matters now is what you show me out here. We’re not here to mess around. You want to be on this team? You better be ready to put in some serious work. I’m talking sweat, grit, and a whole lot of pain.”
He took a moment to let his words sink in, his eyes scanning the faces of the players before him. He stood with his hands on his hips, his stance wide and unapologetically dominant. “This ain’t no place for weaklings or slackers,” he continued, his voice rising with each word. “If you’re here to be coddled or pampered, you’re in the wrong place. You want to be a part of this team? Then you better have the heart of a lion and the drive of a freight train. You think you’re tough? Show me.”
He flexed his arms slightly, a subtle but deliberate display of muscle that wasn’t lost on anyone in the group. His body language was assertive and aggressive, a physical embodiment of the tough-love philosophy he intended to enforce. “I’m not here to hold your hand. I’m here to make you better. I’ll push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed, and if you can’t handle it, you can walk off this field right now.”
Coach Miller’s words were laden with a brand of toxic masculinity that was both intimidating and galvanizing. “We’re not gonna be a bunch of softies here,” he said, his eyes blazing. “You want to whine or complain, you can do it somewhere else. On this field, it’s all about being the best. And if you can’t handle that, then get lost. Simple as that.”
He walked up and down the line of players, his gaze critical and unwavering. “I expect you to be warriors out here. If you can’t fight for every yard, then you don’t belong here. We’re not gonna be friends, we’re not gonna be family. We’re gonna be a team, and that means you work your ass off or get out.”
As he spoke, his deep voice carried an edge of condescension, making it clear that he saw himself as the ultimate authority. His macho demeanor was all about pushing boundaries, breaking down egos, and forging a team of hardened players. He radiated a tough-love attitude that bordered on harsh, but there was no denying that it was effective.
Coach Miller’s impact was immediate and undeniable. The players, unfamiliar with him but awed by his imposing figure and intense persona, listened with a mix of awe and apprehension. His presence alone set the tone for the tryouts, establishing a standard of toughness and commitment that left no room for excuses. As he finished his speech, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Show me you’re not just another wannabe. Prove you deserve to be here.”
The boys gathered on the pristine field, the setting sun casting long shadows as they began their warm-up routines. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, adding a serene backdrop to the intensity of the tryouts. The warm-up began with dynamic stretches: high knees, butt kicks, and leg swings. Chase moved with fluidity, his muscles well-defined under his sweat-soaked tank. Bull, ever the showman, took a moment to flex his wide lats in an exaggerated “Zeus” pose, earning a few catcalls from the girls in the bleachers. “Lookin’ good, Bull!” one of them shouted, making him grin and strike a double-bicep pose.
“Quit posing and focus!” Coach Miller barked, his voice carrying across the field. “You think this is a beauty contest?”
The players moved on to the agility ladder drill, where quick footwork was key. Chase’s feet were a blur as he navigated the ladder with precision. The turf beneath his cleats felt springy and firm, a testament to the school's investment in their football program. Mason, ever the jokester, stumbled on purpose, causing laughter among the group. “Oops, I guess I’m just too fast for my own good,” he quipped, earning a playful slap on the butt from Chase.
Jake, a tall, muscular player with a serious demeanor, also performed well, his footwork smooth and controlled. Diego, a handsome Latino guy with a bright smile and infectious energy, kept pace with the best of them, his agility earning nods of approval from the coaches.
Next, they tackled the cone drills. The W-drill, involving sharp cuts and explosive acceleration, was a test of both speed and agility. Chase darted through the cones, his movements sharp and decisive. Bull followed, his larger frame moving with surprising grace. Diego, with his natural athleticism, moved like a dancer, his cuts precise and powerful.
“Faster! Move like you mean it!” Coach Miller shouted, his voice tinged with machismo. “You’re not dancing, Diego! This is football!”
Diego flashed a grin and picked up his pace, earning a grunt of approval from the coach. The dirt flew up as players' cleats dug into the ground, creating a mix of dust and sweat that clung to their legs.
During the passing drills, Chase lined up as a running back, ready to catch some throws. He ran precise routes: slants, curls, and wheel routes. Bull, the quarterback, threw spirals that cut through the air, and Chase’s hands were like glue, catching every pass with ease. Mason, as a wide receiver, ran his routes with a playful flair, catching passes and making exaggerated showboating moves, much to the amusement of the others.
“Nice hands, Chase!” Mason called out, giving him a playful slap on the back.
“Keep it tight, Mason! We’re not here to clown around!” Coach Miller snapped, though there was a hint of a smile on his face.
Jake, playing as a wide receiver, showed his prowess by making difficult catches look easy, while Diego’s speed allowed him to create separation from defenders with ease. The turf, now starting to show signs of wear from the intense drills, was littered with patches of dirt and sweat.
The blocking drills were a test of strength and technique. Chase squared up against defenders in one-on-one scenarios, his stance low and balanced. When the whistle blew, he used proper hand placement and footwork to hold off the rush. Bull, demonstrating his leadership, encouraged his teammates with every successful block. “That’s how it’s done!” he shouted, giving Chase a solid high-five.
Jake, with his imposing size, proved to be a formidable blocker, while Diego’s quickness made him a challenge for any defender. The dirt and sweat flew up as players collided, each one pushing themselves to the limit.
“Come on, you pansies! You call that blocking?” Coach Miller’s voice boomed across the field. “Put some muscle into it! My grandma could block better than that!”
The players pushed harder, spurred on by Coach Miller’s tough-love approach. Chase, feeling the adrenaline, executed a perfect block, sending his defender stumbling back. The golden light of the setting sun cast a dramatic glow over the scene, highlighting the intensity and effort of the tryouts.
The grass, though meticulously maintained, had patches where the dirt showed through, kicked up by the players’ cleats. Sweat glistened on their skin, dripping down as they worked through each drill. The air was filled with the sounds of grunts, the smack of pads, and the occasional cheer or catcall from the bleachers.
“Go Chase! You’re killing it out there!” a girl shouted, her voice carrying over the field.
At one point, as the players took a brief water break, Bull caught Chase’s eye. “You’re killing it out here, man,” he said, giving Chase a friendly slap on the butt. “Keep it up.” Chase nodded, feeling the camaraderie and the competitive spirit that defined the team. They had only just begun, but the first half of tryouts had already set a high standard. Chase felt a surge of confidence. He was ready to prove himself and earn his place on the varsity squad.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the field, Coach Miller blew his whistle and called for the scrimmage. It was time for shirts versus skins. The shirts teams would wear jersey’s over their pads, while the skins team would strip down completely and then put their pads back on over their nude skin. It was a strange and seemingly pointless tradition at Washington High, since they easily had enough funding for multiple sets of practice jerseys. But the tradition was started years ago, and the boys kept it up, proudly stripping off their clothes and showing off their toned, teenage bodies before slowly putting their pads back on.
Chase, Bull, and Mason were assigned to the "skins" team. “Alright, skins, strip down,” Coach Miller barked, his tone as commanding as ever.
The boys began to peel off their shirts, their muscles glistening with sweat in the fading light. Chase’s well-defined abs and sculpted arms were a sight to behold. His sweat-soaked skin shimmered under the field lights. Bull, never one to miss an opportunity to show off, did a playful, slow strip tease, rolling his shirt up slowly and flexing his muscles. “Enjoying the show, Chase?” Bull teased with a wink, throwing his shirt to the ground.
Chase chuckled and shook his head, but couldn't help but admire his friend's confidence. Mason, always the jokester, struck a pose, earning laughs from the team. “Take it off, Mason!” one of the girls in the bleachers shouted, her voice mixing with the giggles of her friends.
Jamie Jackson, a blonde gay twink who had recently arrived at the bleachers, whistled appreciatively as Chase stripped down. Jamie's eyes were glued to Chase, his crush obvious.
As the boys put their pads back on and lined up for the scrimmage, Coach Miller's voice boomed across the field. “Let’s see some real football out there! No slackin’! Show me what you’ve got!”
The scrimmage began with a kick-off. Bull, the quarterback for the skins team, quickly took control of the game. Chase, playing as running back, lined up behind Bull, ready for action. Mason took his position as wide receiver. Bull barked out the cadence, and the ball was snapped. He dropped back, scanning the field with the confidence of a seasoned pro. The offensive line held strong, giving Bull time to find an open man. He saw Mason sprinting down the sideline and launched a perfect spiral. The ball sailed through the air, landing squarely in Mason’s hands. Mason tucked the ball and sprinted towards the end zone, dodging defenders with ease.
“Nice catch, Mason!” Bull shouted, pumping his fist in the air.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Mason crossed into the end zone. Coach Miller, however, was less impressed with the defense. “You call that coverage?” he yelled. “Get your heads in the game!”
On the next play, Bull handed off to Chase. Chase took the ball and exploded through the line of scrimmage, his powerful legs churning up the turf as he barreled down the field. He dodged one defender, then another, his agility and speed leaving them grasping at air. He cut to the outside, sprinting down the sideline, and with a final burst of speed, crossed into the end zone.
“Touchdown, Chase!” Mason cheered, giving Chase a congratulatory slap on the butt.
Bull grinned and struck a Usain Bolt pose. “That’s how we do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with pride.
The skins team continued to dominate, with Bull and Chase leading the charge. Bull's passes were on point, threading the needle between defenders with pinpoint accuracy. Chase, with his natural athleticism, found holes in the defense and exploited them with ease. The offensive line held strong, giving Bull and Chase the protection they needed to shine.
Coach Miller’s voice echoed across the field, a mix of praise and insults. “Nice throw, Bull! But don’t get cocky! And you, Jenkins, you call that tackling? My grandma hits harder than that!”
Diego, playing on the shirts team, tried his best to keep up, but the skins team was relentless. Jake, also on the shirts team, managed a few good plays, but it wasn’t enough to stop the onslaught.
Dirt and manly sweat flew up as players collided, each hit sending a shockwave through the field. The intensity of the game was palpable, the players pushing themselves to the limit. The scenery, with the fading light and the vibrant energy of the players, created a dramatic backdrop for the scrimmage.
As the scrimmage wound down, the skins team had clearly dominated. Bull and Chase’s performance had blown everyone else out of the water. The team gathered around, sweat dripping from their bodies, their muscles aching but their spirits high.
Coach Miller approached, his presence commanding. “Good work out there, boys,” he said, his voice gruff but approving. “But remember, this is just the beginning. You’ve got to keep pushing, keep fighting. We’ve got a long season ahead.”
Chase and Bull exchanged a satisfied look. As they walked off the field, the cheers and whistles from the bleachers following them, they felt a sense of camaraderie and determination. The two studs were ready to seize their senior year.
After the showering off, Chase and Mason walked to the parking lot, their bodies still buzzing from the intense scrimmage. The night air felt cool against their soft skin, a welcome relief after the grueling three hours of football. It was 9:45, and Chase was spending the night at Mason’s house since it was so close to the school, and also to hangout a bit for Mason’s 18th birthday.
“Man, I’m beat,” Chase said, running a hand through his short brown hair. “But I’m so ready for some FIFA. You ready to get smoked?”
Mason, with his cheerful, handsome face beaming even in the dim light, laughed. “Fuck off, Chasey-poo, you’re about to get clapped so hard. It’s my birthday, so I’m not holding back.”
They reached Mason’s house, a cozy two-story place with a welcoming porch. Mason’s parents had already gone to bed, leaving the house to the boys. Mason swung open the door, and they kicked off their shoes, making a beeline for the living room where the gaming console awaited.
“Dude, I can’t believe you’re spending your birthday night playing FIFA with me,” Chase said, plopping down on the couch. “We should’ve thrown you a party.”
“Nah, man. We already had the rager last weekend. Besides, I wouldn’t want to party between the first and second days of tryouts. Gotta stay sharp,” Mason replied, handing Chase a controller. “Plus, this is gonna be lit. Just the two of us, no distractions.”
Chase laughed. “Alright, alright. But don’t cry when I wreck you.”
They started the game, and the room filled with the familiar sounds of the FIFA soundtrack and the boys’ playful banter..
“Yo, Chase, your FIFA skills are as trash as your taste in music,” Mason teased, his fingers flying over the controller. “You’re about to get bodied, bro.”
Chase rolled his eyes, grinning. “Big talk from the guy who still listens to boy bands. I’m about to send you back to One Direction, dude.”
“Ha! Don’t hate on the classics, my guy,” Mason shot back, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “Besides, you know Harry Styles is a vibe.”
Chase shook his head, laughing. “You’re wild, Mason.”
They resumed their game, the playful banter continuing. Mason’s jokes and teasing were relentless, but Chase gave as good as he got. The room was filled with laughter and the sounds of virtual soccer, a perfect ending to a day that had been both exhausting and exhilarating.
“Chase, your defense is so sus, bro. Are you even trying?” Mason quipped, nudging Chase with his elbow.
“Keep talking, Mason. I’m about to pull off the comeback of the century,” Chase retorted, focusing intensely on the screen.
The match was close, with both boys pulling out all the stops. They were lost in the game, the outside world fading away.
“Yo, how’s it feel to get smoked by a birthday boy?” Mason teased as he scored the winning goal, throwing his arms up in victory.
Chase groaned, but he was laughing too. “Alright, alright, you got me. Happy birthday, you legend.”
They set down their controllers, still chuckling. It was late, and they knew they needed rest for the next day of tryouts. They headed upstairs, ready to call it a night.
The two 18-year-old dudes settled comfortably in Mason's queen bed. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that highlighted the contours of their bodies. Chase, in his silky boxer briefs and a silver chain, lay on his back, his toned muscles now relaxed as he stretched out in bed. Mason, in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, lay next to him, as they had done during countless sleepovers. Though not as muscular as Chase, Mason’s toned body and visible abs were evident. His milky-white skin, adorned with freckles, seemed to glow softly in the low light. Chase couldn’t help but notice Mason’s orange tufts of armpit hair, a unique and endearing feature.
Mason turned to face Chase, propping himself up on one elbow. His cheerful face was serious for once, his bright blue eyes searching Chase’s for a moment. “Hey, Chase,” he began, his voice soft and tentative. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, man. What’s up?” Chase replied, turning his head to look at Mason.
“So, uh, there’ve been these rumors going around…about you being gay. Are they true?” Mason asked, his tone gentle. Mason was gay himself, but wanted to keep things under wraps until he graduated high school, just to appease his super Catholic parents.
Chase hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, they’re true,” he admitted, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He wasn’t used to talking about this, but felt comfortable with Mason, one of his best friends.
Mason nodded, still propped up on his elbow. “I get that. So…what’s it like? Being with a guy, I mean.”
Chase’s blush deepened. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “It’s…different. In a good way. It feels more…real, I guess. Like, you don’t have to put on a front. But it’s also scary, because you never know how people are going to react.”
Mason reached out and placed a comforting hand on Chase’s arm. “Thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s not easy to talk about.”
Chase turned his head to look at Mason again, a small, appreciative smile on his lips. “Thanks for being cool about it, Mason.”
Mason smiled back, his usual cheerfulness returning. “Of course, man. You’re my best friend. I’ve got your back.” There was a moment of comfortable silence before Mason spoke again. “Can I tell you something, too?”
“Sure, anything,” Chase replied.
“I’m, uh, kinda attracted to dudes a bit myself,” Mason confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, and…uh… I haven’t... you know, been with anyone yet. I’m a virgin…Catholic parents and all that, shit, you know…”
Chase looked at Mason, surprised but not judgmental. “Really? I mean, that’s totally fine, Mason. There’s no rush or anything.”
Mason smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Chase. That means a lot coming from you.”
Mason’s curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t resist asking more about Chase’s experiences. “What’s it like? You know, physically, to be with a guy?”
Chase shifted uncomfortably, not expecting the question. “Uh, it’s...different. I mean, it’s not something I really talk about.”
Mason propped himself up on one elbow, his expression earnest. “Come on, man. I’m just curious. What’s it feel like?”
Chase sighed, staring at the ceiling. “It’s...intense. And personal. It’s hard to describe.”
There was a pause, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Slowly, almost instinctively, they began to move closer. Chase could feel the warmth radiating from Mason’s body, and the proximity sent a shiver down his spine. Mason’s breath hitched slightly, his eyes flicking down to Chase’s lips and back up again.
Mason, sensing Chase’s discomfort but too curious to stop, pressed on. “But like, doesn’t it hurt? I mean, how do you even...you know.”
Chase felt a wave of embarrassment and irritation. “Mason, it’s not like that. It’s about trust and connection. It’s not just about the physical stuff.”
Mason rolled his eyes, his tone shifting. “Yeah, but still. Doesn’t it feel weird? Like, having another dude...you know, inside you?”
“I mean not if he’s gentle and eases in pretty slowly…you kinda just like take deep breaths and treat it like you’re…I dunno…taking a dump or something…” Chase and Mason both chuckled a bit at the crude description. “Okay, okay it’s better than I described it…when it’s good and it slips in it’s kinda like a nice kiss…like when someone slips their tongue into your mouth…”
Mason looked Chase in the eyes, a strange, testosterone-fuel courage swelling inside him. “Like this?” Mason asked, as he pressed his lips against Chase’s and then firmly inserted his tongue, surprising his friend.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. Chase broke the kiss of and looked at Mason, his blue eyes searching his friend’s face for a moment.
Chase’s heart raced as he leaned back in, their faces inches apart. He could feel Mason’s breath on his skin, warm and inviting. With a gentle, almost tentative movement, Chase closed the remaining gap, pressing his lips softly against Mason’s.
The kiss was tender, a delicate exploration filled with both uncertainty and a growing sense of rightness. Chase’s lips were warm and soft, moving gently against Mason’s. Mason responded in kind, his lips parting slightly to deepen the kiss. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two 18-year-old jocks in that intimate moment.
Chase’s hand found its way to Mason’s cheek, cupping it gently as he felt the slight stubble under his fingers. Mason’s hand rested on Chase’s waist, their bodies drawing closer together. The kiss was a beautiful blend of tenderness and passion, a silent affirmation of their bond and the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface.
As they finally pulled back, their eyes locked, breaths mingling in the quiet room. Both boys were left breathless, their hearts pounding in unison. Mason’s blue eyes were wide with wonder, a shy smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Wow,” Mason breathed, his voice barely audible. “That was...amazing.”
Chase nodded, his own smile mirroring Mason’s. “Yeah, it was. Here, I wanna give you a present.” Chase began kissing Mason’s collarbone, then tenderly making his way down to the ginger-haired teen’s toned chest, flat abs, and treasure trail. Chase slowly slipped Mason’s pajama pants down, then kissed the head of Mason’s 6.5 inch cock. It stood perfectly erect, surrounded by a wild, untrimmed bush—a telling sign that Mason was indeed a virgin.
Mason, having never experienced any sexual intimacy before, was leaking precum like a faucet and felt like he could cum right then and there. He needed Chase to hurry up and suck his cock, giving him desperately-desired release, but instead, Chase moved further down and began flicking his tongue on his friend’s ballsack. Chase then licked at the pit between Mason’s balls and his thigh, inhaling a lingering scent of sweat, even though the boys had both showered recently.
Mason moaned loudly. He was in heaven, scarcely able to believe that his friend, maybe the hottest dude in their entire school was worshipping his junk. “Shitt dude, that feels so nice…”
“Yeah, you like, buddy?” Chase then confidently took the ginger jock’s cockhead into his mouth. He massaged and sucked at the very tip for several seconds, then in a sudden, abrupt movement, vacuumed the entire 6.5 inches into his mouth. Mason gasped in shock and pleasure. Chase began using his tongue, inside cheeks, and throat to expertly massage the virgin boy’s throbbing cock.
Within 30 seconds, Mason lost it. “Chase, st—stop for a second…you’re gonna make me…mhhh…of fuck! Shit! Shit SHIT!!” Mason shot volley after volley of virgin cum into Chase’s throat, as the wrestling star continued to suction every last drop of seed out of his friend.
Chase slowly made his way upwards, using his hands to grope at Mason’s abs and nipples. He then placed his lips over the wide receiver’s mouth and commenced a cummy French kiss. Though he had just cum, Mason was turned on by the taste of his cum in Chase’s mouth. He’d fantasized about Chase sooo many times in the past, but couldn’t believe that the studly adonis just let him shoot his load in his mouth.
After letting a wad of cum drip into Mason’s willing mouth, Chase broke the kiss off. “Happy Birthday, bro.” Still straddling the ginger jock, Chase slipped off his pre-cum-stained boxer briefs and his 6inch cock sprung to attention. “Mind if I jack off real quick?”
“Uh…sure bro…course you can…” Chase straddled has buddy has he spat on his hand and lubed up his cock. He began stroking, slowly at first before quickly picking up the pace. It was getting late and Chase wanted to finish quick so they could go to bed soon. It was kinda awkward seeing Mason ogle and eye-fuck him, so Chase closed his eyes and began thinking about the day his stepbro, Brad took his virginity. He thought about the 6’4” quarterback’s strong, hairy arms and thick, 8-inch cock. Chase got closer to the edge as he remembered how Brad dominated him, pinning him down and verbally degrading him with taunts that inexplicably turned him on so much.
As Mason lay on his back with Chase straddling him and stroking off, he felt a strage temptation come over him. He stuck his middle finger deep in his mouth and lubed it up with a copious amount of spit. He then spread Chase’s ass-cheeks with his other hand. Unable to resist, Mason pressed his middle finger onto Chase’s splinchter, teasing it a bit.
Chases eyes snapped open, and he exclaimed, “Fuckkkk, that feels good. You wanna tease my hole, bro?” Chase relaxed his opening and Mason’s finger slipped right in. “Ohhhh fuck yeah. Yeah finger fuck my hole, bro.”
Mason, completely inexperienced, proceeded cautiously, gingerly wiggling his finger around. As his finger slipped in deeper, he felt a subtle round spot. Judging by the sound of Chase’s pleasured moans, it must’ve been his prostate. Mason focused on gently rubbing against the sexy 18-year-old jock’s g-spot.
This drove Chase over the edge. “FUCK. Open your mouth bro. Come on, just do it…ugh..quick. FUCK! SHIT! YEAH, take my load bro! MHHHH!!!!” Chase expertly aimed each volley of hot cum into Mason’s wide-open mouth. He didn’t miss a drop. As his orgasm subsided, Chase scooted closer, letting the final drops of jizz drizzle onto Mason’s lips. “You took that like a champ, brutha,” Chase stated as Mason extracted his finger from Chase’s hole. The two boys went to the restroom to quickly wash their hands, faces, and cocks before calling a night—for real this time. It was 11:30pm by then and the two 18-year-olds, exhausted from three hours of tryouts, quickly dozed off.
-*-*-
The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the expansive grounds of Atticus Vanderbilt’s estate, highlighting the opulence of the surroundings. The sprawling property boasted perfectly manicured lawns, a grand fountain bubbling at the center of the circular driveway, and elegant marble statues poised amid the vibrant greenery. A luxurious pool shimmered invitingly under the sun, its cool blue waters reflecting the grandeur of the estate.
By the poolside, an outdoor billiards table was set up, ready for a game. Atticus Vanderbilt, or “Vanders” as he was known, stood beside the table, exuding an air of effortless sophistication. At 6'2", he had a striking presence with his impeccably styled dark hair and sharp, angular features reminiscent of Tom Ford. His navy golf polo and crisp white shorts accentuated his refined elegance as he awaited his guest.
When Ryan’s SUV pulled up the driveway, the grandeur of the estate came into full view. At 6'4", Ryan had a strong, commanding presence, enhanced by his broad shoulders and a rugged charm that came from years of friendly, down-to-earth interactions with friends and colleagues. He wore a light blue polo and khaki shorts, his casual attire perfectly reflecting his approachable demeanor.
“Hey there, Ryan!” Vanders called out, his smooth, refined voice cutting through the serene afternoon as he extended a hand in greeting.
“Hey, Vanders!” Ryan replied, his Southern accent rich and warm. “Good to see ya, buddy. Thanks for havin’ me over.”
“Of course!” Vanders said, leading the way to the outdoor billiards table. “I’ve got a game set up for us, and we’ve got drinks ready. Let’s get started!”
As they walked across the perfectly manicured lawn.The garden was a riot of colors, with vibrant flowers blooming around the neatly trimmed hedges. The pool sparkled invitingly, framed by elegant loungers and tastefully arranged outdoor furniture.
Two of Vanders’ “employees”, identical 5'11" twins with strikingly handsome features, brown hair, and broad shoulders, stood at the ready beside the pool. Dressed in crisp black uniforms, they moved with practiced grace, serving drinks on silver trays. One twin, with a slightly mischievous grin, held out a tray with a selection of cocktails.
“Gentlemen,” the twin said, his tone courteous but with a hint of playfulness. “Would you care for a drink?”
Vanders and Ryan took their drinks, with Vanders selecting a classic Old Fashioned and Ryan opting for a bourbon neat. “Cheers, Ryan,” Vanders said, raising his glass.
“Cheers, Vanders,” Ryan replied, clinking his glass with Vanders’. “Thanks for the drink.”
They made their way to the billiards table, the gentle sound of water from the pool providing a soothing backdrop. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden light over the scene.
“So, Ryan,” Vanders began as they positioned themselves around the table, “how’s everything goin’ at the country club? I hear business is goin’ quite well.”
Ryan leaned on his cue stick, a relaxed smile on his face. “Yeah, business has been great. We’ve had a lotta new members joinin’ up, and the recent renovations have been a big hit. But honestly, I just try to do what I can to keep things runnin’ smooth.”
Vanders nodded, clearly impressed. “That’s fantastic to hear. It’s always nice to see someone work hard and have it pay off. I’m guessin’ you’re enjoyin’ the success?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Ryan said with a grin. “It’s been real rewardin’. But it’s not just about the success—it’s about providin’ a place where folks can come to relax and have a good time.”
As they began their game, the evening air was filled with the soft sounds of the billiard balls clacking together and the occasional splash from the pool. The lush greenery and the tranquil ambiance created a serene backdrop for their conversation.
Vanders took his shot, the cue ball moving smoothly across the table. “That’s the real joy of it, isn’t it? The people you meet and the relationships you build.”
“Exactly,” Ryan said, his Southern drawl accentuating his words as he watched the balls bounce around the table.
Vanders looked thoughtful as he lined up his next shot. The conversation pivoted to Sheryl, Chase’s mom and Ryan’s wife. She was an executive at a fortune 500 company and recently relocated to Germany for a promotion, leaving Ryan to take care of Chase by himself. “How’s Sheryl adjusting to her new job in Germany? That must be quite the opportunity for her.”
Ryan took his shot, the ball rolling neatly into a corner pocket. “She’s doin’ great. Really thrivin’ in her new role. She’s always been so driven and focused—it’s amazing to see her succeed. Co”
Vanders raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Wow, that’s quite the achievement. How’s she handling the move to Germany?”
Ryan leaned on his cue stick, watching as Vanders took his shot. “Better than I could’ve hoped. She’s always been adaptable, and she’s embraced the challenge. We’ve been doin’ a lotta video calls, and she’s been real happy with the new opportunities. Probably enjoying the heck out of getting away from me if I’m bein’ honest.”
Vanders watched as Ryan’s shot cleared several balls from the table. “Germany must be quite an experience for her. I imagine she’s takin’ full advantage of the opportunity to explore the culture.”
Vanders asked about Chase. Ryan chuckled, a bit of embarrassment in his tone. “Yeah, that’s right. Chase didn’t want the added pressure of me watchin’ him, so I stayed away. I’m proud of him for takin’ on football, though. But I know he’s gon’ do great. Been puttin’ in a lotta work in with his big bro this summer, and it seems to be payin’ off,” Ryan said. “Boy’s always been a hard worker.”
As they finished their game, the tranquil ambiance of the estate provided a fitting end to the day. Vanders took a sip of his Old Fashioned and leaned against the billiards table, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Ryan,” Vanders began, his smooth voice breaking the comfortable silence. “What you’re here for today. We’ve been sidesteppin’ it all evening, but I think it’s time we got started.”
Vanders gave a measured smile, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I reckon we should talk about the agreement you made to make up for what happened back in the summer.”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably, the casual ease of their earlier conversation giving way to a slight blush on his cheeks. “Ah, that. I was wonderin’ when that’d come up. He took a swig from his bourbon, trying to mask his nervousness.”
Ryan, and his older son, Brad had engaged in a three-way with Joaquin, one of Vanders’ OnlyFans boys. Joaquin was staying with Vanders for the summer, and the two told everyone that Joaquin was Vanders’ godson. Stupidly, Ryan and Brad fucked Joaquin in every corner of Vanders’ large house, and got caught on his security camera.
To make up for it, Ryan agreed to become one of Vanders’ OnlyFan boys for 6 months. The two men signed an agreement last week. Ryan would star in produce 20 videos, but his face would be blurred out in every video.
Vanders had spent his twenties and early thirties living off a trust fund and working in gay porn studios, producing and directing videos. The past few years, he pivoted to “managing” and “owning” OnlyFans accounts. By now, Atticus had accumulated a stable of almost ten boys, whose OnlyFans accounts and content Atticus controlled and also owned the rights to. Most of his boys, ages ranging from 19 to 25, have had meteoric success lately. Each account brought in between $5k to upwards of $70k per month. He himself had no need for the money, but he preferred to own and redistribute the income stream back to the boys as a way to control them and protect them from themselves.
For each boy, Atticus would keep 10% of the income as a management fee, pay the boy around $90,000 per year, and then put the rest of the year’s profits in a beneficial trust that was required to invest the money and pay it all back out to the boy when he reached 43 years of age. For the boys who netted under $90k per year, Atticus would loan them money, to be repaid at 5% over a ten-year period.
Ryan was subject to all of the same financial terms, even though he obviously didn’t need the money. Still, Vanders wanted things to be fair for Ryan. Tonight, Ryan would be doing his first photoshoot and filming his first scene.
-*-*-
The evening had grown darker, the cool air around the pool now tinged with a hint of evening chill. The lights above the pool cast a warm, inviting glow, illuminating the pristine, sapphire water that stretched out beneath a starlit sky. The gentle ripple of the water was the only sound.
Ryan walked out from the changing room, his steps hesitant as he approached the poolside. He was clad in a tight, silver speedo that left little to the imagination, showcasing his incredibly well-sculpted body. The speedo clung to his hips, accentuating his muscular V-shaped torso and revealing the 6’4” DILF’s defined quads and hamstrings. The waistband sat low on his hips, emphasizing the chiseled lines of his eight-pack abs and the powerful muscles of his chest and arms.
Ryan resembled young Henry Cavill—except he was more cut, his physique a testament to years of rigorous training. His broad shoulders and bulging biceps formed a striking contrast to the sleek fabric of the speedo. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, making his muscles look even more defined under the soft poolside lighting.
Standing beside the pool were Austin and Dustin, the identical 5’11 twins with striking brown hair. They had been working for Vanders for the past few months, their muscular builds evident even under their casual attire. Their tan skin and toned physiques were a testament to their active lifestyles, their broad shoulders and well-defined abs hinting at hours spent in the gym.
Austin and Dustin were dressed in tight-fitting gym shorts and tank tops that showed off their own impressive bodies. Their muscles were well-defined, with prominent biceps, strong chests, and sculpted abs. They had a confident, almost mischievous glint in their eyes as they looked at Ryan, clearly excited about the photoshoot.
Vanders stood by with a camera in one hand and a smartphone in the other, ready to capture both photographs and video footage. His eyes gleamed with a professional but playful intensity as he looked at Ryan. He poured Ryan a generous amount of whiskey. “Drink up. It helps to be a bit tipsy if you’re shy.” Ryan obliged, grateful for the drink.
“Alright, Ryan,” Vanders said smoothly, “We’re gonna do a few shots by the pool. Let’s get started with some classic poses.”
Ryan nodded awkwardly, trying to ignore the way his speedo seemed to accentuate every detail of his physique. “Uh, sure thing, Vanders. Just let me know what ya need.”
Vanders gestured for him to stand by the edge of the pool. “Let’s start with a simple pose. Stand with your back to the camera, hands on your hips.”
Ryan took his position, his muscles tensing as he tried to keep a confident stance. The cool breeze brushed against his skin, making him shiver slightly. He tried to ignore the feeling of the fabric of the speedo pressing against his skin, focusing on the task at hand.
As Vanders began snapping photos, Austin and Dustin sidled up beside Ryan. Their eyes roved over him, clearly admiring his physique. Austin’s hand brushed against Ryan’s shoulder, his touch lingering longer than necessary.
“Hey there, Ryan,” Austin said with a flirtatious grin. “Looking pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
Ryan flushed, shifting uncomfortably under the twins’ gaze. “Uh, thanks, Austin.”
Dustin stepped in closer, his hand brushing against Ryan’s arm. “Yeah, man, you’re like a Greek god or somethin’. Pretty impressive.”
Ryan’s face reddened further as he tried to maintain his pose. “Aw, shucks, y’all are makin’ me blush.”
Vanders chuckled from behind the camera. “Just keep up the good work, Ryan. We’re aiming for some heroic shots here.”
Austin leaned in, his hand resting on Ryan’s lower back in a way that was decidedly more intimate than necessary. “So, Ryan, how does it feel to be the center of attention like this?”
Ryan felt a flush of embarrassment and tried to shift away from Austin’s touch. “Feels a bit awkward, honestly. I’m not used to this kinda thing.”
Dustin gave Ryan a reassuring smile, though his eyes roamed over Ryan’s body. “Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great. We’re just here to help you look good.”
Vanders continued to photograph, occasionally calling out instructions. “Ryan, try turning slightly to the side. Let’s see those abs.”
Ryan followed the direction, trying to ignore the way Austin’s hand rested on his shoulder, or the way Dustin’s fingers occasionally brushed against his side. The twins’ flirtatious glances and subtle touches made Ryan increasingly uncomfortable.
Vanders finally spoke up, a smirk on his face. “Alright, now let’s get you in the water for a few shots. Nothing like a dip in the pool to show off those muscles.”
Ryan walked to the edge of the pool, the cool water lapping at his feet as he stepped in. He tried to look natural, though the sensation of the water against his skin was a stark contrast to the warm poolside air. The water made the speedo cling even more tightly to his body, accentuating every detail of his toned physique.
Austin and Dustin stripped down completely and followed him into the water, their own bodies glistening as they joined him. They stood close, their muscles gleaming under the water’s surface.
“Look at you,” Dustin said, his voice low and teasing. He gave Ryan’s bulge a quick squeeze, noticing that the embarrassed stud was now rock hard. “You’re really rockin’ that speedo.”
Austin added, “Yeah, dude, you’re totally killing it. Fucking sexy DILF.”
Ryan tried to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “Thanks, I guess. I’m just doin’ my best.”
“You should come hang out with us alone sometime,” Austin said with a wink. “We’d love to get to know you better.”
Ryan chuckled awkwardly, his face still hot from the embarrassment at the twins’ obvious advances. “Well, thanks, y’all. I appreciate the offer.”
Vanders directed Ryan to various poses in the water, capturing images of him in different angles. Austin and Dustin kept up their friendly, flirtatious banter as they draped their nude bodies around Ryan in various suggestive poses.
“Alright, Ryan,” Vanders said as he took a few final shots before switching to filming, “You’ve been fantastic. We’re almost done here with the stills.”
Ryan sighed with relief, though his cheeks were still flushed. “Well, I reckon I’m ready to be done.” Vanders walked back towards the house, saying he was gonna fetch his filming camera.
As he turned around to swim to the edge of the pool and dry off, Ryan felt a pair of hands grab at his speedo, then quickly pull them down. Austin and dove down and pantsed him like he was a nerd in high school locker room or something. Ryan was too surprised to even react, when suddenly, Austin took Ryan’s hard cock into his mouth and began expertly sucking. Ryan gasped, but he was quickly muffled by Dustin’s mouth, forcibly making out with him.
Ryan had agreed to flim his first scene for Vanders after the pool photoshoot. He agreed to let Vanders handcuff him to a chair while Austin and Dustin took turns sucking his cock. Ryan figured that being handcuffed would make things feel less awkward and he’d feel less selfconcious if he’d only have to play a passive role. But the twins decided it’d be funner and sexier to surprise the handsome DILF and handcuff him while he was still in the pool.
Austin did just that, retrieving a pair of rubber handcuffs he’d set at the bottom of the pool and expertly using them to restrain Ryan’s wrists. Ryan tried to pull away, but Dustin aggressively made out with him, holding his head still, while Austin started rubbing his 7” cock against Ryan’s granite ass.
Ryan was undeniably turned on by this and the sexy dad began giving in and kissing Dustin back. Austin wrapped his hand around Ryan’s 8 inch cock and began stroking as he licked around Ryan’s stubble and earlobes. Unbeknownst to Ryan, several cameras were already set up in the pool area and filming every second of this.
The whiskey had set in and Ryan was now pretty drunk. The twins continued groping their hands over the handcuffed stud as they led him up the pool’s beach-style entry. Ryan started feeling incredibly turned on by the situation and he willingly let them guide him out of the pool. Ryan had to admit—it was hot as fuck to let two sexy twins manhandle him.
They threw Ryan down on a giant beanbag chair surrounded by camera. Ryan landed on his back with a thump, wondering what the boys were gonna do to him. Austin and Dustin smiled mischievously, their perfect white teeth glistening in the pool area lighting. Dustin ran a hand through Ryan’s messy, damp hair and said, “So, stud, ready to become a porn star?”
Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. For story updates, reader polls, and AI renderings of characters, feel free to check out my Twitter. I’ve released chapter 2 of Chase’s Senior Fall just a couple of days ago, and in the past people have told me they’ve accidentally skipped chapter when I relase them too quickly in succession. So if anyone happened to miss it, make sure to check out the previous chapter here.
This chapter addresses a plotline that started in Turning Chase. For the scene that went down between Ryan, Brad, and Joaquin in Vander’s house (that got Ryan in serious trouble), check out Turning Chase Chapter 9.
I’m encountering some writer’s block on how the chapters covering the football hazing are going to go. If anyone has ideas about any good hazing rituals (sexual or nonsexual), please do let me know.
