A Taste of Bret

From: The Hitman

Picture: Beau

Published in: Torso 1995

Paybacks can be a pain in the ass!

“Your ass is mine.”

That was just how I put it. There was no need to say anything else. He knew I owned his butt. Still, Bret resisted.

"Yeah, right, dude," he huffed, wiping the perspiration off his face with his sweat-drenched work-out T-shirt. "I'll get you the money."

"Payment's due today," I replied.

"I'm skinned, dude," Bret argued. Then he made the mistake of showing me his back on the way to the dorm shower. In a flash, I had his butt bared, yanking sweaty gray cotton shorts, mid-length underwear, and a musky-smelling jockstrap down to his knees while I went to the dormitory floor on mine. "What the fuck?!" Bret yelped.

He found out soon enough when I buried my nose and mouth between the solid cheeks of his ass. It was time for Bret Hardison to pay up. I'd barely gotten my first lick of his furry hole when he whipped around. Bret's limp, ample cock with all that foreskin and his hairy bayou balls stared me in the face. "You fuckin' queer," he choked out in that sexy Loo-siana drawl of his.

"Naw, buddy. I'm just the bank, and this is the collateral.." I groped his limp dick and skinned back the juicy cock-sock, forc¬ing the moist, pink head into view.

_____

That’s how I got a taste of Bret Hardison, right before his football skills sent him to the pros. You should probably know Bret and I roomed together our senior year of college. See, Bret had a thing for the ladies. Always had four or five of them juggled at once while the rest of us were studying or pumping our puds in the dorm bathroom. When we'd been paired up by the college housing authority, I'd been terrified—then had become turned on beyond belief—by the concept of rooming with the star quarterback of the college football team.

I admit it—I like guys. Like 'em a lot. And there was a lot about Bret Hardison worth liking. He hung out in the dorm when he wasn't screwing half the holes on campus. He never thought much about cranking his peter in front of me or sleeping naked on top of the covers, even when November dropped a foot of snow on the ground outside our windows. Yeah, I wanted Bret—who wouldn't? Every time I heard that sexy south¬ern drawl, part of me melted while the rest caught fire. I wanted nothing more than to tongue my way into his hairy hole. I'm an ass-man. Big-time.

But the day arrived when I mustered the balls to risk getting my butt kicked by the toughest guy on the team and the handsomest fucker on campus who just happened to owe me one.

_____

Bret stood paralyzed by what was happening, 6'2" of sweaty football jock, sideline cap on backwards, pale blue-green eyes dazed, dribbling dick inches from my open mouth. Bret was fuckin' hot, man. From all the times I'd seen him naked in the dorm, I already knew he was pretty smooth from the waist up, no hair on his chest with just a little fuzz on his armpits and when he let his face go stubbly for a day. From his abs on down was another story. Bret's solid jogger's legs were dusted in shag. Tufts of red¬dish-blond fur stuck out of his asshole like a mohawk, and a crisp smelling bush padded his balls and the fat, uncut cock.

"I oughta kick your ass," Bret growled. The mean look on his hard face made my already-racing heart beat faster. I knew he was stunned, but the shock would soon pass. I had to act fast.

"You forgettin' some¬thing?" I snapped back. "Birthday money. Five hun¬dred bucks worth. 'Member that? I got the canceled check if you need a mem¬ory jog." I ran my thumb under the dribbling piss-slit of Bret's hog.

"So, I fail to pay you back for lending me your birthday money, and you think I'm gonna let you go down on my dick? Or what—you're gonna turn me in for borrowing some cash?"

I ran my tongue along his sweat-soaked prick. "Shit, bro', I'd never do that. You been a damned good roomie, and I'd never screw with your chances of mak¬ing the draft. But, dude—I lent you $500 so you could take out all your chicks and the payback date was today. That means you owe me something, and what I want to keep my big mouth shut is your hairy asshole planted square on top of it."

"You're fuckin' sick, dude," Bret spat.

I toyed with his balls and ran my fingers toward the mossy hole behind them. "I'm not the one who took cash from a sports agent or five big ones from my dorm-buddy and then refused to pay him back as promised. I may be sick, Bret," I said, grinning, 'cause I knew I had him where I wanted him, "but the truth is, I got you by the nuts." I tongue-lapped his sweaty sac, all moist from an honest workout and tasting like the last load he'd shot that morning on his bed. My own dick was so hard in my sweatpants, I thought I was gonna shoot just humping it against Bret's leg.

"Yeah," Bret whispered in a defeated voice. "So what do you want from me?"

"Simple," I said, spitting out the quarterback's left nut. "I want what I've been fantasizing about since they shacked us together. Your ass, buddy."

____

"You like eating that nasty ass?" Bret drawled over his shoul¬der as he backed doggy-style onto his bed. I shucked his sneakers then pulled his shorts, drawers, and jockstrap down over his sweatsocks, showcasing his perfect spread butt in the late morn¬ing light streaming through the windows.

"You sure got a hot ass, man. Any of your chicks ever sneak a tongue up there?"

Bret shook his head. "Nope. Women aren't into that disgusting shit."

"Well, son," I chuckled, going between his hairy legs for that next nip, "you're in for a real treat, 'cause there's nothing I love more than lickin' another guy's asshole."

I couldn't see his face, just the team's name on his sideline ballcap. "Just motherfucking do it," he grunted.

Leaning in, I eased my nose between Bret's solid, muscled asscheeks and inhaled. "Fuck, dude!" he grunted uncomfortably as I exhaled a hot breath straight up his hole. Unable to resist any longer, I licked him from the back of his ball-bag all the way up till I was wiggling my tongue into his tight, clenched ring. The taste of Bret's backdoor pushed me to the point of blowing a serious wad in my sweats. Rising from the crouch between his hairy legs, I shoved my pants down. A ribbon of my pre-cum pissed across Bret's right quad, delivered from the tip of my itchy-hot eight-incher. "What're you doing?" he growled, a tremor of unease in his voice.

"Nothin'," was all I said. My cock freed, I started whappin' it the moment I returned to the spit-lubed sphincter winking at me from between his spread cheeks. Chowing on Bret's hole, toying with the QB's shaggy bull-nuts, started driving him as wild as it was me. Bret began to groan, louder and deeper. When I felt him pushing his asshole back against my face, I reached around his balls to find his veined, shaggy, cigar-shaped shaft standing long and lean, its foreskin moist at the neck of its arrowy head. I gave Bret's hog a few firm strokes. He was pre-cumming like crazy—the fucker was really getting into being eaten out by his queer roommate!

"How's that feel, tough guy?" I muttered into his moist ass.

Bret buried his face in his pillow, and a muffled swear escaped his lips. "Fuck!" he groaned.

If you insist, I said to myself, giving his slot a last slurp. I stuck my pointer finger in my mouth until it was all wet, teased its tip on Bret's asslips, then slowly eased it in. Bret Hardison's groans of pleasure at having his asshole eaten turned to bear-grunts.

He howled into his pillow. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"

I started slow, but by the time I answered, I'd settled into a steady fingerfucking rhythm to tease Bret's prostate. "The same thing you've been doing to all that hole you like going down on. I'm getting a piece of the choicest slice on campus."

''Didn't know you wanted my ass so bad," the jock blurted between gasps for air. "If I'd'a known it was gonna feel so good, I might'a…borrowed that cash sooner, dude!" A full confession.

"S'okay," I said, mouthing Bret's nuts. "You got a week's exten¬sion. You don't come through then, I ain't using my finger."

Suddenly, the quarterback's already tight hole clamped down on my fuckfinger. Bret let out a loud moan and the balls I'd been lick¬ing pulled up into their sack as the uncut cock I played with exploded with its first sputter of jizz. Still toying with his prostate, I released Bret's cock and spread his legs. He took the hint and did a dog's leg-lift to give me better access. By the third blast of cum onto Bret's bed, I had the head of his cock in my mouth. The pungent sauce and lin¬gering taste from his asshole made me lose it. I shot four steady strings of my own spunk across Bret's furry legs.

"Cocksucker," was all Bret said. His asshole wet with my spit, my nut juice glistening on his legs, I watched him wiggle that future mil¬lion-dollar can of his out of the room and into the showers. I sensed our situation in the dorm would never be the same again.

Still, I didn't care. I knew that even years later, I'd still have that notch on my belt from having screwed around with the ass of my col¬lege's hottest football star. The only problem was, you get a taste of something like that and once is never enough.

____

Bret barely talked to me the rest of the week. When I saw him, he was mostly in bed, watching the boob tube, covers hiked up to his chest like he had something to hide. But late at night, after the lights were out and only the glow from the fluorescents outside lit the dorm, I'd look over and see the sheets on Bret's bed doing the pump-and-shiver—it was a dance the star QB had been performing on top of the covers before I took ownership of his ass. While he beat off, I knew Bret's asshole was no doubt pumping and twitching like my tongue and finger were up it.

Somewhere around the end of the week, I stopped keeping my meat-beating silent, and Bret made no attempt to hide his uncut geyser each time it went off. But neither of us made a move for a rematch till the next morning, Saturday, when the extension on his loan payment ran out.

____

Bret lay face-down on top of the bed, big bare feet kicked out, hairy legs spread, meaty sack of his balls spilling down under the red¬dish-blond fuzz prickling out of his puckered asshole. I was just thinking about taking a lick when Bret started humping the mat¬tress.

"I ain't got your cash," he said.

I sat up and swung my legs—all three—over the edge of my bed. "What does that mean" I asked, still groggy, but waking up fast. "That you're gonna start talking to me again like before I ate you out?"

"I ain't interested in talkin'," Bret said matter-of-factly.

It was all the invitation I needed. In a flash, I was running my tongue up Bret's body, from his sexy toes to his inner thighs to those meaty, egg-shaped low-rollers hanging beneath his fur-hole. Once I'd lubed Bret up nice and wet, I replaced my tongue with my fuckfinger. Bret reacted like he'd just gotten his first million-dol¬lar contract—he let out a howl and guttural grunt and he was pushing back on my knuckles until his hole had reached my palm.

"Bet none of those girlfriends 'a yours make your butt burn like this."

Bret mumbled a few Fucks! while I teased his prostate. "Man, that feels so good!"

I knew it was time to make my move, maybe my last and only chance to break Bret's cherry ass. Still fingering his steamy pucker, I leaned over him, reached for the drawer on the bedside table where he stashed packet upon packet of condoms and whipped out a tiny tin¬foil square from the general clutter. "I'm gonna make things feel even better, tough guy."

Bret just buried his face in his pillow and said nothing when I with¬drew my finger. As I rolled the skin over my pulsing prick, I went down and gave his musky hole one more lick.

"Payback's a bitch, Bret," I told him.

I lined the head of my cock up with the star QB's knot and eased in. Bret pushed his face further into the pillow the deeper I slid in. He was so tight, I swore his asshole started sucking on my cock like it was in his mouth. The heat and pressure drove me wild—about as crazy as Bret was going on my prong.

"You don't gotta worry—fuck—'bout me telling no one—shit, you're tight!"

Bret continued to howl and hump back. Each time his asshole and my abs connected, I could feel his cock—rock-hard and heavy— slap his stomach. I reached around and steadied one hand on Bret's balls. The other sought his cock. While fucking the hottest asshole I'd ever been in (and to this day has never been matched in taste or tightness), I beat Bret's meat like both our lives depended on it.

Gobs of goo oozed between the fingertips of my jacking hand. Releasing Bret's nutsack, I hugged his hairy chest, pushed in, and felt that unrivaled itch in the head of my covered cock. I gave Bret's hairy butt a good-natured slap, thrust in, and shot the first string of spunk into the condom's cum-dump.

"Fuckin' hot hairy football player's ass!" I shouted. "I love your ass, Bret. I fuckin' love your asshole!" Soon, Bret blew the con¬tents of both his big balls across my palm. Out of control with pleasure, he shoved his face into the pillow. No sense letting this go to waste, I thought, bringing my hand to my mouth and licking Bret's load from my fingers.

After we'd both shot, I eased my still-covered dick out of Bret's can. My cock remained stiff—and with good reason. Laying in the sweaty, hairy tumble with Bret Hardison was about to take on a new and even hornier twist.

"Get out another condom," he ordered after a long silence.

Visions of reporking Bret's popped cherry filled my head. I leaned over to the open drawer. That's when I saw the envelope with my name on it, laying among the condoms, pens and pencils.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked.

"Open it."

I did. Five crisp $100 bills stuck to my cum-drenched fingers.

"It's all here?" A numbing rush of adrenaline raced through my insides. "You let me fuck your ass even when you had the cash?" The "straight" fucker had wanted his ass plowed—he'd let another guy ride his hole!

"Hand me that condom," Bret repeated. Still dazed by the reve¬lation, I did. But instead of working it over my spent dong, Bret slapped the safety skin on his reawakened prick. "We ain't exactly even. Score's not settled just yet. Like you said, 'payback's a bitch,' and you're about to howl like one, dude!"