"But, Coach," Jeff explained, "even though you don't really want to fuck all those guys on the team, you very much want them to fuck you. If I get them to line up and give you your deepest, most secret desire and pull a long ass train on your ass, you understand you're going to have to fuck at least a couple of them, right? I mean, that's just common courtesy."
•••
"You've got a way with words well beyond your years," Coach said, hugging Jeff close to him. "How'd you figure out what my most secret desire was before I did?"
"That's simple," Jeff replied. "And you'd have never gone there on your own because it's all so fucking taboo to you...but you've made it crystal fucking clear that you love getting your ass hammered in, and especially by...well, at least one younger dude who happens to be on your team. So, what could be better than that...other than getting hammered by half a dozen horny ballers?
"Plus, I had another piercing insight, while I was figuring out your deepest secret desire, namely, I'm beginning to think that we've got a whole lot in common, and talking all that smack about the guys lining up behind you made me realize how much I want a bunch of fucking studs to all line up behind me, too." TTJ, #16
As soon as Fred and Mitchell finished spit roasting George, Jeff reached for the cap containing the participant cards and stirred them up. When he looked inside, he saw that the card with a tiny ink dot on its back - the one that supposedly said 'TRAIN' - was one of those on top. Jeff reached for it, as Fred downed his two penalty shots. TTJ, #74
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"Fuck," Fred declared as he shook his numb, slack jowls, "I'm officially fucking drunk."
"You're a fucking A good looking drunk," Jeff observed, admiring Fred's six pack and fat, cum slickened cock hanging below a patch of sandy blond pubic hair. "Go ahead and take your card," Fred replied, "but please don't pull my name out of the cap...I'll throw up if I have to take another shot now." All eyes were on Jeff as he reached into cap for the card he'd zeroed in on. Jeff looked at the card and took a deep breath. "TRAIN!" he shouted. 'This is going to be hot as fuck,' he thought, 'if only Coach could see me now.'
"Here's the individual names for figuring out who fucks who in which order," Mitchell said, holding the cap out to Jeff. "The first name you draw gets boned by the other five guys in the order you pull their names out."
Jeff hoped he drew his or Mitchell's name first, but he was going to play this drawing straight and read out whoever's name was on the card. He also hoped he didn't pull Max's name out of the cap first...watching Tyler and Max fuck had been fine, but he wasn't really keen on watching four other guys fuck Max. Jeff didn't know it, but Max and Mitchell were also hoping to hear their names called. The way they saw it, who wouldn't want five hot dudes to line up behind them? Jeff did know that's exactly what George was hoping for, of course. Tyler and Fred were hoping to be toward the end of the line, to give their dicks and stomachs a short break. Neither would have minded getting fucked in the ass by five red hot guys, but that wasn't either of theirs's deepest secret desire, nor even near the top of either of their lists.
"Unh unh," Jeff said, refusing to take the cap from Mitchell. "Stir 'em up good for me, bro, and hold it up high so I can't see." Mitchell complied, and Jeff closed his eyes and reached into the cap, pulling out a card as everyone watched. "Fuck yeah...JEFF!" Jeff read aloud gleefully, excited to be on the cusp of living his secret fantasy. He showed all of them the card with his name on it.
"And the first hot fucker to fuck me is gonna be...MAX! Fuck, I've been waiting all day for that." Jeff again showed the card he'd drawn to the group, not that anyone (other than Max, Mitchell and, possibly, Fred) would've ever thought he had cheated in order to be the recipient of five hard cocks, beginning with Max's.
