Alley-Oops

Becca’s foot tapped impatiently as she waited near the gym entrance.  No sign of her brother, or any of the rest of the team, for that matter.  It was annoying enough to have to ferry Victor and his friend Luke around to and from basketball practice during her winter break, but when they disappeared to snog the high school girls, it was that much worse.

Another five minutes passed.  Becca fiddled with her boxy phone and sighed.  She had given them the fifteen minute warning thirty minutes ago, with no text in response.  Drastic measures would have to be taken.

She strode across the court, her street shoes squeaking.  At the other end, the door to the locker room hallway was propped open with a brick.  She peered in, but there was no gender designation here, so she slipped inside.  "Victor?  Luke?“ she called softly as she crept down the hall, her fingertips brushing the rough bricks.

A shadow loomed in a dimly-lit doorway ahead, and she started.  "Hey, someone there?”  She tried to keep her voice from wavering, but it was impossible, as spooky as the drippy pipes and abandoned yet echoing passages were.

The shadow shrank and then a tall, lanky man-boy peered around the corner, half-hiding his face and wry grin.  "Hey, Becca.“

"Oh.  Luke.”  Becca put her hand to her heart.  "Thank god it’s you.  Fucking creepy place.“

"Come on in,” Luke said, gesturing her into the doorway and vanishing.

She hesitated.  "Isn’t that the boys’ – “

"It’s just me,” Luke called back, still out of sight, his voice betraying broad sweeps of movement.  "Victor’s off with Fenny.“  Becca rolled her eyes; her brother had a string of awkward, messy high school girls, and Fenny was the latest whack job.  With a last glance over her shoulder – because convention was convention, after all – she entered the boys’ locker room.

Luke was buck naked, still dripping from his shower, his impressive cock hinting upward and a confident grin pointed at Becca.  She blushed furiously and covered her eyes with her hand, leaving enough space between the fingers to stare.  "Luke!  What the hell?”

She was four years his senior and still had to admit that, standing posed like that, he cut a more impressive figure than any of her peers.  He kept smirking.  "Isn’t this why you came back here?“

"I – no!  No, of course not, I’m seriously just trying to leave.”  With each word, the gaps between her fingers widened until finally she just dropped her hand.  "Homework.  Due.  Sometime.“

He seemed to swirl something around in his mouth, finally deeming it worthy of voicing: "It’s not gonna suck itself.”

“Honestly!” Becca almost shrieked, but then she caught herself.  Not that she could ever admit it, but – she had harbored a secret crush on Luke since they’d met, when he was a precocious but soft-spoken thirteen-year-old as tall as she was at seventeen.  Her throat bobbed.  "Are you sure,“ she said in a tiny voice, "that Victor isn’t here?”

“Positive.”  He rested his hands on his bare ass.  "Pretty please?  I’ve always seen you staring.“

Again, she swallowed hard, her gaze drifting down to his slowly awakening manhood, and then she made up her mind.  Summoning all the huffiness she could, she plopped down on her knees on the rubber mat and cupped him in both hands.

"This is for that three-pointer,” she said, and took him between her lips.  He gasped and jerked, but she held him still.  "And this,“ she said, pulling away and grinning up at him, "is for being a cheeky little bastard.”  She nibbled down the length of him and he hardened so quickly she was afraid he would come before she’d had enough time to make it worth his while.

“Control thyself,” she chuckled, and went back to work.

Rivalry Love

Brent peeled off his Elks uniform and chucked it across the locker room.  It landed halfway in the hamper, dripping sweat into the pool already on the floor.  He waved an aching arm at it.  Good enough.

His footsteps slapped hollowly through the empty rows of lockers and benches as he padded to the showers.  He had opted to stay late, preferring the solitude of the field for his endurance training; besides, then the showers were deserted and he could hose off in peace.

Brent adjusted the temperature with a practiced hand and stepped under the flow.  He closed his eyes to let the water tumble down his face.  He let out a deep sigh as his muscles started to relax.

“Oh!”

Brent whirled around at the single, startled word.  Standing buck naked at the shower room doorway was Rodney Whittaker, quarterback for the Bobcats, the Elks’ biggest rival.  More specifically, Rodney Whittaker was Brent’s biggest rival, his nemesis on the field and in the hearts of both schools’ cheerleading squads.

“I thought – uh, they said – I biked over to see Cynthia, and they said I could use the showers.”

Brent had never seen Rodney so flustered.  His gaze dropped to the other boy’s cock, which to his surprise was halfway hard.  Rodney followed Brent’s line of sight and suddenly his cheeks pinched in a smile.

“Right?  Everyone’s always like, ‘You just play football because you have a tiny dick, blah blah blah.’  So much for that.”

“Yeah,” Brent said.  He turned around slowly, staring at the wall and trying to think of anything else, because a sudden rush of blood was swelling his own dick.  He put a hand over it, tried to push it down.  He frowned at the sound of three of the other showers turning on.

But before he could turn around, another hand slid down over his, slipping between his fingers and gently caressing his shaft.  Brent moaned without prompting, his heart skipping beats wildly.  Rodney’s now-rock-hard cock pressed into his ass crack.

“I’ve seen you watching me,” the other boy murmured into his ear, making Brent shudder.  "I know you want this.“

Brent bit his lip.  A thousand scenarios flooded into his mind: the coach walking in to find them; his mother making a surprise visit to the school; his teammates discovering not only his pleasure but his fraternizing.  But worst of all: looking back on this day and regretting that he hadn’t taken the chance he had been dreaming of for almost three years.

So he put his palms against the wall and offered his ass to his greatest rival.  Rodney grinned, swiped his tongue across his hand, and moistened his cock.

"I won’t make any wide receiver puns,” he chuckled, and nuzzled the tip against Brent’s asshole.

The sound of the showers mostly drowned out the boys’ satisfied grunts.