New Jock Tales—Freshman Year–Chptr 12—Happy 4th of July

New Jock Tales—Freshman Year–Chptr 12– Happy 4th of July

Summer had been great—and so was life. I had coined my own little phrase–

“one lucky white boi”. Finally achieving 6′, and those big ass jock feet now at a 12, poppin 8 hard squares of abs, 9” of vein poppin cock, and that hard round hairy ass. I admit, sometimes I just stood in front of the mirror and jacked off, sniffin on my bushy pits. I tried to keep myself in check, and not brag, or get a big head about it all. Damm, I had more shit than most seniors.

But not just the awesome bod, but life in general. Living the fantasy of taking our Freshman team to a state championship was still unbelievable—there was really no way we should have accomplished that. We lived in a nice house in a moderate neighborhood. I had a lil bro, that was great at jackin my dick for me—he loved to watch me nut 🙂 Mom had a good job. And I was knocking down cash beyond all fantasy selling my big jock dick to pretty much whomever wanted it. Old perverts and middle age cougars were the best—they wanted that yung hard flesh—160 lbs of USDA choice. Typical fee—about $1.50 a pound, lol.

I tried to believe that I wasn’t self-absorbed or anything, really the biggest fascination was the amount of junk I blew every time I popped a load. I had played around with enough guys by now to realize it was massive. I’d say maybe 5 times more than normal—and distance as well. Hell I could shoot about 6 feet—unbroken rope of thick jock jizz. Damm, I prolly shot enough juice by now to have populated a small town. No way I coulda been Catholic, lol.

It was still early, so I slide into a pr of cut off shorts and head upstairs for some coffee. Surprised that Dustin was already up, absorbed in Saturday morning cartoons. “Dustin—you make this coffee “?? “Ya Matthew” “Well damm lil bro—thank’s for that” I really didn’t give my lil bro much attention these days—between the mowing jobs (7 now), dirt bike racing, and summer boxing, (decided to go for gold this year) I just didn’t have much free time. And football practice would start up in just 3 weeks—jeez. I was going to have to start working out just any day now. Not after bigger muscles—I liked the build I had, shit I got 16” bi-ceps now, but more after strength training. Varsity would be a lot harder than Freshman football. The guys would be way bigger. And the strength training would benefit the boxing as well. Now—I wasn’t a bully–I really didn’t like hurting other guys, for no reason at least, but fuck it—if your in that ring, they’re gonna hurt you, so you might as well hurt them first.

After a couple of sips of my coffee there was a knock at the door. Jeez—it’s just 9:00 AM. Lazily walking to the front door and opening it, I liked to have lost my shit. There stood Mark Mattox, and Maurice Jones. “What the fuck do you fucks want?” I was pretty arrogant and throaty.