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Barry Lowe

Chock Full of Jocks

Gay Erotica Gangbang Cuckold

He didn’t realize when he accepted his football boyfriend’s marriage proposal it included the whole team.

Gay Erotica Gangbang: When football jock, Brad, proposes to his boyfriend, Danny, in front of the whole team, their reaction is not what either expected, especially from arch homophobe, Brett. As the beer flows at the celebration, it becomes apparent to Danny there’s an ulterior motive to the jocks’ behavior. When they slip Brad a Mickey Finn so they can show Danny up close and very personal what they really think of him, he wonders if he’s really cut out for married life. Football is a team sport – Danny didn’t expect the same from his marriage proposal.

Series: You May All Bang the Groom

eBook Cover Price: 0.99

Length: 7310 words

Gay Erotica Gangbang Cuckold

Heat rating: 5


OMG! OMG! OMG! My boyfriend proposed to me tonight. How fabulous is that? Right there in the restaurant over a champagne dinner that was just perfect, Brad got down on his knee, at the table, in front of all his jock friends including arch homophobe Brett who I thought was gonna puke, and asked me to be his husband. I’m afraid I giggled. I’m not really husband material, but you could hardly call me ‘bride’ material either. I have a pretty substantial dick dangling between my legs; the thing is I rarely use it on other guys. I prefer to play bottom. I love a good hard cock wedged in my ass, pounding the juice out of me.

And Brad pounds me better than anybody else. When he looks at me, my ass pussy twitches. I can’t get enough of him; that’s why he thinks I’m insatiable. I’m not. At least I don’t think I am. I mean, a good hard fuck with Brad and I’m usually asleep in minutes, then I wake up horny and we go at it again. If it’s early enough we go at it a third time. Sometimes, I visit him during his lunch break and we do it over his desk or in the men’s bathroom. On really rare occasions, I’ll meet him after work at our favorite bar and he’ll either do me in one of the booths in the darkened corners while I sit on his lap or we’ll take it to a cubicle in the men’s room. Okay, not all that rare. But that hardly makes me insatiable. Besides, Brad loves that my ass is open to him whenever wherever.

When Brett screwed up his face as if I was shit on the sole of his boot and asked, “Why him?” Brad told everyone at the table, “Because his ass is hot as lava, tight as a drum, and available to me 24/7. And I’m the only man for him. What else can a guy ask for?”

Sure, I was a bit disappointed that Brad didn’t use the ‘love’ word but, in the end, what did it matter? He asked me to marry him now that gay marriage was legal in the state. I squealed like a teenage girl, bobbing up and down on the chair like I had a butt plug wedged in my ass. In fact, I did, because Brad had warned me this was not one of those occasions where we should disappear for a quickie. I noticed the shocked look on the faces of some of Brad’s jock mates. They’d had a hard enough time coming to terms with the fact their football captain was gay. They couldn’t get their tiny minds around the fact that the best captain of the best team ever in the history of Thornwhistle U was a ‘fag’. Maybe they could have forgiven him if I’d been a jock but, nah, my major was interior design – how clichéd is that?

We’d met at a party thrown by my good friend Roger Green and, I might add, that’s exactly the color his complexion turned when I walked away with the trophy jock he’d invited to the party in hopes of nabbing him for himself. Let’s face it; I’m much more gorgeous than Roger. He’s fat and forty. Over forty. I saw his driver’s license once. I’m twenty-three and even though I’m no jock, I have a six-pack that’s the envy of many a gym junkie. It’s all genetics. Sure, I get a regular work-out but it’s from my career choice, lugging bolts of fabric and wallpaper, lifting furniture, that sort of natural activity that gives you abs, pecs, and all those other one-syllable muscle groups. But my piece de resistance is my butt: I have buns of steel and a snug little asshole that holds a hard cock inside like a mouse trap.

Brad didn’t stint on the details of why he wanted to marry me and if most of it revolved around the flexibility of my ass, the cavernous recesses of my mouth and throat, and the lascivious nature of my personality, my embarrassment was a small price to pay to hear my man talk about me in such glowing terms. It also delighted me to watch his jock buddies squirm in their seats. What was the matter with them? Did they think it was just a phase Brad was going through and that he’d suddenly turn back to being straight again? Not that he ever was. He admitted to me that he used to fantasize about his team mates while he bored it up one of the cheer leaders.

Everyone at the table – everyone in the restaurant, in fact – was staring at me. I realized I hadn’t given my answer. “Of course, you silly bastard. Of course, I’ll marry you.” He stood up, pulling me out of my seat, to pash me in front of everyone, sticking his long thick tongue into my mouth, rubbing his crotch against me so I could feel how excited he was.

Woody, his vice-captain showed his displeasure. “Ewww, get a room.”

Brett was even more poisonous. “When are you going to take him home to meet your dad?”

A deathly hush fell around the table; everyone recognizing the make-or-break moment. Brad’s dad, Arthur, is Mr. Homophobe. No competition; he’s in a class of his own, as badass as they come. A former football great, often asked to comment on the state of play and other hot topics; he’s never without an opinion, one that is usually full of hot air. His views on gay marriage were as antagonistic as any fundamentalist preacher and just this side of attracting the attention of the law. Everyone at the table knew that.

I had to admire my boyfriend; he stood his ground. “As a matter of fact, I rang dad last night. I fully intended, if Danny said ‘yes’ today, to head home to visit dad this coming weekend.”

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