Copyright © 2013 - 2018 Lydian Press Terms and Conditions Privacy Statement Contact Us Submissions Barry Lowe

They say jocks are dumb. Okay, it might be true for some, but it sure ain’t true for yours truly. I’m not talking about exam results or essay marks ’cause I’m pretty mediocre as far as book learnin’ is concerned. What I am good at is team sports, especially football, although I’m an all-rounder and I’m super fast and super skilled on the basketball court, and able to hold my own in a pro boxing match; that’s what got me my scholarship to Goliath U.

For two years, I’d managed to live the dream, more through luck than prowess. I’d been a big leg up the ladder of success to the football team  so that we were within a few points of the leaders with a strong chance of reaching the finals – a first for the college. I’d managed a few KOs in the ring as well so that I have a trophy for a Third at the State Championships somewhere at the back of my closet gathering dust. But it was scoring in the bedroom that always counted more and they don’t give trophies for that. More’s the pity because those I would exhibit with pride.

If you laid all the chicks that I’d balled end to end…well, let’s just say, the local stadium would have very few empty seats. I dunno what it is about me; my charm, my dazzling smile, my insatiable cock, my ability to give any chick an orgasm no matter how frigid she is. Okay, I’ll come out and say it: In the bedroom, I’m an Einstein of Sex.

Now you’ve got a bit of background info, you’ll understand why my dad’s email came as a fuckin’ blow to the balls. In it he revealed he’d lost his ‘lifetime’ job at the financial institution where he worked as…who the fuck knows?...the family had had to downsize to make ends meet, mom had left him because she couldn’t adjust downwards, she wanted to adjust upwards just like her waist size, so she’d found a better offer with a wealthy older man and was outa there… well, let’s cut a long story short. My newly single loser dad was now living in a demountable home in a trailer park, barely making ends meet in a dead-end job stacking shelves.

I’d swanned through my first two years of uni without a care in the world as dad took care of all the bills. His little boy lived the carefree life because he didn’t have to work part-time in shit jobs to pay for tuition and text books. More time for fucking, thank you very much. So what if dad didn’t have a well-paid job at present. He was resilient, he’d survive. There’d be plenty of positions available for a man with his background.

Wrong. Seems his skills barely qualified him as a shelf stacker at a local supermarket in an area so down in the mouth it was on anti-depressants.

The situation was brought home to me when my cell phone stopped working because he hadn’t paid the monthly plan. Then the internet access dried up. Finally, my brain connected to reality. I was in deep shit. One day I received a letter – you remember letters? – in which dad explained how grave the situation was. Mom had milked the bank account for every penny and he was living on welfare and small jobs he picked up around the town. There was no money for my courses the following semester; there was no money for anything including my air fare home. He wanted me back there for support but I had to pay my own way. I guess I owed the dude that much. Besides, I didn’t have enough ready cash to eat during the Spring Break let alone spend on the essentials like beer and babes. I managed to scrounge enough for the bus which lobbed me into the town where I grew up around two days later.

I’d never even passed through the area where dad’s trailer park was situated and had to ask directions. Strangers looked at me with pity as they gave directions, warning me of the dangers. I was forced to beg for bus fare on the street using my charm and good looks although a couple of gay dudes decided to try it on offering food and accommodation to what they saw as a country hick newly arrived in town. The offer came with the promise of a ‘good time’ that meant I’d be face down in their bed, my ass elevated over a pillow or two while they pounded my cherry. Nah, I don’t dig dudes for relief, although like all jocks I’d received the occasional drunken blow job from a cute fag at a frat party. That’s as far as it went.

New Jock in Town


Cover Price: 2.99

Length: pdf Pages /  words

Bisexual, Multiple Partners, Erotica

Heat rating: 5