"Now what else?" Max asked Jeff. "Did you have any other conditions for moving your locker back here to the JV section?"
"No. 4, that's it, except have you given any thought to me blowing you now?"
"Jeff, I can't now, I've got to get to the film room and you've got to get ready for your very hot date. Tell you what, though...you get William to move and I'll get Landen to move. After everybody is rearranged, we'll flip fuck back here one night after practice, and christen your new locker with two loads."
"Deal!" Jeff agreed. "Only it'll be three loads, yours, mine and queer as fuck William's."
"Whatever," Max replied, laughing, "now give me a kiss, then get the fuck out of here...and meet me and Mitchell at the Fuck nest as early as you can...you know...tomorrow morning."
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Jeff had already largely, but by no means completely, scratched his Jay itch Sunday night through Monday morning, and part of him might have wished he was spending Tuesday night with Max and Mitchell instead of with Jay and Coach, which could only be a letdown after their fuck a thon. The other part of him, apparently more than 50%, could hardly wait to plug into Jay again. Still, there wasn't any question that after the events of Sunday night, Tuesday night felt decidedly anti-climactic.
Coach had diplomatically let Jeff know that this was NOT going to be 'another fuck a thon,' not like Sunday night had turned into. For starters, they were going to cook out and eat dinner together, maybe have a few drinks, before they even thought about taking their clothes off. Coach envisioned something along the lines of the Max, Jeff and Mitchell three-way he and Jay had finally gotten around to watching on video late Monday. He wasn't ruling out more, of course, but it sounded like Coach didn't think any more fucking would be necessary.
What Jeff had taken away from that chat had been that at least one over the top sandwich fuck with Jay in the middle (and Jeff behind Jay) was essential, and they could fuck as much as they wanted to after that. Whether more than one sandwich fuck was strictly 'necessary,' he fully expected Jay to ride his cock until he couldn't get it up again. It was kind of odd, he thought, to be told, in effect, 'we'll tell you when to take your pants off,' but at the same time he was somewhat relieved not to have to worry about when and how to transition from being sociable to fucking his host in the ass. He'd fuck his host in the ass when he was told to.
Jeff arrived on time with a nice bottle of wine for his host, dressed casually as Coach had suggested. Still, he'd chosen his clothes with purpose - a red dry-fit polo, khaki shorts (free balling) and leather soled flip flops. He could be completely naked in under ten seconds. Jeff was not one to preen in front of a mirror, but he wanted to make a good impression. As you'll read in the next episode, Jeff wasn't alone when he had gotten dressed at home, and even though he'd been in a hurry, he'd sought his friend's advice as to which of two pairs of shorts best accentuated his positives. He and his friend had agreed that the way the shorts he was wearing fit, tight in some places and loose in others, struck the right note, hinting strongly rather than shouting that there was a fat watermelon dick lurking underneath. Of course, Jay and Coach knew exactly what was in Jeff's shorts, and he would be surprised if he managed to keep his clothes on for longer than thirty minutes. Still, he wanted Jay to want him out of his pants sooner rather than later.
As much as Jeff liked Coach's house, especially his Fuck nest, the hot tub and the pool, Jay's house was much larger and nicer. Jay plainly had money, and a lot more of it than a high school football coach made. Purely out of self-interest, Jeff hoped Coach didn't sell his place (and Jeff's Fuck nest), at least before the following summer. He couldn't imagine how he'd survive beating his meat alone in his own bed, with Max sleeping alone a couple of miles away in one direction, and Mitchell a couple of miles away in another. Jeff took a deep breath and rang Jay's doorbell. Even after the Sunday fuck a thon, he couldn't help but be a little nervous. Were Coach and Jay going to act like all of that fucking had never happened?
