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Wide Receivers
While at a football camp, the normally homophobic jocks don't know something is in the water.***
The old yellow bus pulled up into the dusty fields of the old football camp. The place had been deserted for several years since the 60s when a bunch of hippies made this part of their squatting grounds. Many of the jocks made jokes about those pansies dancing around and acting all gay around the place, but, for the next six weeks, the camp was going to be a place that was "all man, all muscle, and no pansy-assed queers". Or so they liked to say.
The camp itself was in surprisingly good condition; despite the absurd time that it had been abandoned, the builders had known what they were doing and so the cabins and other buildings were still standing strong. All they needed was some new shingles for the roofs, a fresh coat of paint on the walls, some new beds, a good indoor cleaning and a few fresh screens for the doors and windows, to keep the insects out. Though the jocks had all come for the chance to exercise without anyone hassling them, they were prepared to do a few renovations to make their summer bearable. Half the bus had been stocked with their supplies, and no-one was so foolish as to think that there wasn't more than one porn magazine or beer bottle hidden in the mess.
The fields and lake had been kept secret by the lush, deep and numerous pine trees that surrounded the area, acting as a curtain for those even five feet into it. The team had only gotten through after a long and winding trail had been made, and only through the areas where the small trees could be removed and the other, immovable ones had been marked with water-based paint.
The lake had been, for a while, a private haven for Andrei Nicoli, the Russian coach for the team, allowing him to spend his time training without any others to judge him. During the free breaks he had from teaching, he came to the abandoned fields and rigorously trained under the warm sun, building his body and tanning it at the same time. He was a bit embarrassed to admit it, but being a bachelor at his age allowed him to work harder, longer and more often than if he had been involved with a young lass.
Unknown to even Andrei, though, was an important detail about the lake's natural state; even though the lake was filled with pristine, crystal clear water, without any outstanding scent, the lake had no apparent entrance or exit. By all means, the lake was no more than a standing puddle, and an unusual one at that; no matter how hot it became, the lake never shrunk considerably, nor did algae cling to the docks. What was keeping the with perfect water at a constant level was hidden, deep in the bottom of the lake, known only to those who worked during the sixties and those who could dig through the miles of forgotten paperwork.
Most of the first day had been spent making the cabins livable, mostly by spraying the cabins full of bug killer and replacing the crawling mattresses; though Andrei had spent considerable time at his second home, he hadn't done much more than clean out a single cabin for his own use. Fortunately, his players had remained loyal to their coach's practices and didn't resist the extra work, joking at how it was like with their lockers back at school; all they needed to do was to clear out the junk left by the previous guy. It hadn't taken long for the individual rooms to be cleared of the spiders and rotting furniture, though it would taken much longer for them to be ridden of the dust that had stayed behind. They hadn't found any weed or dope, but the guys were confident that they could find something under a loose floorboard or in the back of one of the closets.
They had opened a fire pit by the lake and roasted red franks and canned beans over a raging flame. Though they smelled like they hadn't had a bath in weeks, the team took it in stride, declaring that they wouldn't bathe until they were ready to hurl. It didn't take long for the hidden booze to leak out, and soon everyone was taking a sip, a couple even getting drunk and slurring about their "shit-ass" bosses. Eventually, the fire was extinguished and Andrei let the others wander back into the cabins, staying to pick up after the others and "finish the booze".
So with the moon full and bright on that first night of camp, and with his players asleep in their bunks--or doing a good job of convincing Andrei they were sleeping--the muscle bound coach pulled off his boxers and jumped naked into the lake. The air was still warm but the lake was cool, giving Andrei a brief chill. It had taken him a while, but during the months that he had kept the area as his own secret, Andrei had taken to swimming in the lake without any clothes nearby, and even to walking from the lake to the cabin without anything on. Something about the secluded area made him feel secure, drove away the paranoia that someone was keeping their eyes on him, and allowed him to have the freedom to be as clothed as he wanted. Besides, the lake made for a great bathing area, and the bus ride had been far too hot for his liking. He deserved to have a refreshing dip, even if it was at night with his team nearby.
Andrei meant to stay close to the shore, but something drew him to the center of the lake. He meant to keep his head above water as well, but for some reason he just had to go under and see; the water was so clean and pure, and the moon was so bright that he could see the soil beneath the surface. The more Andrei swam, the better he felt, and he was reminded of his trip to the Bahamas where he went snorkeling. But there weren't any exotic fish or coral reefs to look at here, just placid, peaceful water and dirt, no algae to slime things up, no ugly scraps of garbage or fish waste to sully the image, just clear as crystal water.
The water's temperature was rising, at least it felt like it was to Andrei, as he surfaced. He didn't mind, it felt good. He felt good; hell, he felt fucking great! Just him, the water, the moon and the wilderness, no women or fags to drag down his image, his pride, his legacy. He wanted to roar. Being naked in that water made him feel like more of a man. Andrei didn't know why it did but he didn't give a fuck. It was like he'd drunk a whole case of Red Bull and every last drop was going to his cock.
Fuck, his cock! Andrei had pumped out a load that morning, which was usually enough to get him through the day, but in the lake he felt like he hadn't done it in a month, or a year, or ever. Fuck, he needed a crank. Andrei swam back to shore and when his cock touched the air it only got hotter. His entire body felt electrified, like he'd never felt before. He wasn't even touching himself, but it was like someone was rubbing up and down every part of his body. He had to jack off. There was nothing else he could do.
Taking his fat twelve incher in hand, he had to squat down as soon as he started stroking. The sensations were so powerful that it made his legs feel weak, even though overall he felt stronger than he'd ever felt before. It was the lake, he decided. It was the spirit of the lake and of the trees. It was the spirit of all the men who came before. In his mind he could see them; men from different places, different lives, all coming to that lake to do what he did then. Warriors all, though they each fought in different ways for different reasons. He was a warrior on the football field and, trivial as his battles may have seemed in the long run, he was a warrior just the same. Even the hippies who'd been there before. Andrei could see them as if they were still there. He saw them with their buckskin jackets and tight jeans. They might have been there for peace and love but any of them could take one of his players--one of his soldiers--and fight them down to the ground. He saw all of them in the water, celebrating their manhood, celebrating each other, being men and doing what men did best: what Andrei was about to do as he leaned back, letting the moonlight bathe his huge, wet, hairy body.
If the spray of his cum could have made a sound it would have been louder than his own roar. Thick white roped blasted from his cock into the water, floating before dissipating, claimed by the lake and it's images. Andrei collapsed for a moment, breathing heavily and feeling more exhilarated than he'd ever felt.
Lost in the glow--more like glare--of his orgasm, Andrei almost drifted off to sleep until he realized what he'd just done. He was energized all over again but that time he frantically searched for his boxers on the shore and, upon finding them, tore one side of them open while he struggled to put them on. Nearing panic from his circumstances, Andrei just grabbed the remaining clothing, ran to his cabin and went straight for his bed, diving under the covers before the door was opened again.
"Nicky?" It was Paul Peters, Andrei's assistant. "What's wrong?" Andrei made out the question despite Paul's sleepy mumbling.
"Nothing." Andrei said, feigning his own sleepy reply. "Don't worry 'bout it." He added a yawn to complete the deception; it seems that Andrei's time on stage had left him with more than a few essential school credits.
Paul mumbled something like "good night" and returned to his own room and fell back asleep. Andrei didn't sleep, though. He couldn't stop thinking about one of his players or assistants seeing him with his cock still half hard and flopping in the air as he ran back to his cabin. Or worse, they could have seen him jacking off in the lake on his little sex trip. Andrei's heart raced all through the night as he saw his downfall over and over in his mind. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear or out of lust. As big as his last orgasm had been, Andrei felt like he was going to pop all over again, even if he didn't touch himself.
Okay, so being at the lake had always let him feel a little relaxed. There'd been a few afternoons he'd spent there doing nothing but feeling up his body and jacking off for no other reason than the pure joy of the act. But those were afternoons he'd spent ALONE. And even though he'd had some pretty good orgasms in his lifetime, he'd never felt anything as incredible as what he'd just gone through. And he was already anxious to shoot again!
Andrei tried to quiet himself, body and mind, but the images came back. He saw a bunch of muscled up hippies jerking off in the lake. He saw a group of soldiers dousing themselves with water and ripping each others' clothes off. He saw Indian men performing a ceremony in the lake, every one of them stroking their cock as one of their own was pushed under the water to suck their chief's dick. Andrei couldn't stop beating himself off if he wanted to, and as the images and the sensations of the lake flooded over him the only thing he wanted to do was beat off. Still he restrained himself, trying not to make his bed creak. He was almost there. Just a few more strokes and it would be even hotter than the last one. He was just at the precipice when he took his hand off. Andrei heard it in his mind "Save this. You will know when to release it."
Andrei knew the voice but he couldn't remember whose it was. He wasn't even sure if the voice was speaking in English or Russian. He whispered to the darkness. "Why?"
"You will know in time. Save this."
"Yes." Andrei said. He clenched his teeth and gripped his bed sheets. His hips were still writhing, trying to hump the air with no avail. Soon his heart stopped racing but the sensations stayed with him. Andrei managed to fall asleep a few hours before dawn. His dick was still as hard as brick.
---
As much trouble as Andrei was having, his players weren't doing much better. Most of them were used to jacking off every night. All of them jacked off once in the morning. Never, however, did they do it in a room with another guy. The older players had anticipated their lack of cumming and had resolved to put that extra energy into workouts while sneaking out for a quick jerk as soon as the urge got too strong. But the Freshmen were in a state of collective panic. Every player in the cabins was up before dawn but stayed quiet, thinking their teammates were still asleep, and each of them was suffering a boner that wasn't about to go down.
But of all of them, Conner Hawkins figured he had it worst. He hadn't gone to sleep that night. While some of the other guys were used to one or two orgasms a day, Conner had a habit of three shots if not four. It was a sort of family curse. Like his father and his brothers, Conner had a set of unusually large testicles. He'd gotten plenty of ridicule from guys in high school and now, with his new brothers on the University team, he wasn't getting a break either: His new nickname was "Baller." Conner didn't mind that. He knew everyone else was jealous of his nuts and the dick that went with it. His real problem was that of his matching libido.
In his cabin the guys had tortured each other with stories of sexual conquests and dirty jokes. Like the other guys, all the dirty talk made Conner rock hard, but he kept his mouth shut as he didn't have any stories to tell. The only one he had, when he creamed his pants when Brandi Oaks dry humped him at prom, didn't seem like an impressive achievement. Instead he listened in until at last the other guys seemed to be asleep. But while they slept, he stayed pumped up, so horny that his lean, ripped body was covered with sweat.
It wasn't long before he looked out of the window by his bed, just out of curiosity. The lake and the trees were beautiful and he thought he might even get to see some animals in the night if he was quiet enough. And indeed he did get to see one:a big Russian bear.
Conner saw Coach Andrei taking down his boxers and jumping into the lake. His already hard dick surged harder and began leaking. Conner knew it was wrong to watch. Besides, he wasn't queer, was he? He couldn't be. He was a fucking football player! And yet he still watched as his coach swam in the lake. It only got worse when Conner saw Andrei's huge, hairy body rising from the lake only to kneel beside it and start jacking off. Conner was frozen, fearing that any slight movement would make his dick blast off. It was bad enough he was watching another dude masturbating. He couldn't cum to it. No way! But as he watched his coach stroking it was as if the Coach's sensations were being transmitted right into Conner's crotch. So Conner watched, feeling helpless, knowing what would happen when the coach reached his climax. Finally, Coach Andrei shot his load with that great roar and Conner followed suit, barely stifling his own shout. Only then could Conner look away, down at his pillow, hoping no one had seen his reaction.
Conner looked around at his fellow players sleeping away in their beds. If anyone had seen they weren't saying anything yet and maybe they'd just keep their mouths shut. If they did say anything then Conner decided he'd just say they were queer for watching. Sliding into his bed he tried to ignore the large puddle of cum he'd produced. Conner was a regular wet dream machine anyway, even with his heavy masturbation schedule. He could take the wetness. It was the heat that bothered him. It wasn't long before he was hard again. The sight of Coach Andrei played in his mind over and over. He tried to think of chicks but Andrei was where his mind would jump. It was the shock of it, Conner decided. He wasn't queer. He couldn't be queer. Maybe it was something in the water, he told himself. Sure, he'd only had a sip, but maybe there was some kind of weird whatever in it. He'd be fine and ready for action by morning.
---
If any of the players had worried about showing morning wood, those fears were killed by camaraderie. It was Conner who first saw Coach Andrei that morning but in reality he only saw his Coach's fat bone straining against a pair of nylon shorts.
"Holy Fuck!" Conner said.
Andrei looked down at himself, at his monster raging again even though he thought he'd finally managed to calm himself down. His face had already been red but Conner's quip made the blush even worse. Andrei froze and stared at Conner who was staring back but not into his eyes.
"What?" Andrei said. "So I have a little morning wood? I'm a man. It happens." And then Andrei saw something else. "I see I'm not the only one."
Conner looked into his Coach's face for a brief moment but the expression frightened him. He'd seen the look before on the faces of other guys, usually when they were going after girls--or going into them. Then he looked down to see his own ten inches pulling up his own shorts. Conner looked to his coach's boner again and then met Andrei's face.
"Yeah, I guess you're not." Conner said. For almost a minute they said nothing and only looked at each other. Coach Andrei's expression only changed slightly, but in Conner's mind it went from a gust to a hurricane. The sweet sensations in his groin only got better. His body felt even warmer.
"What the fuck, man?"
Both Andrei and Conner turned to see Jamie Dennis looking at them with his jaw hanging. "Even you, coach? It's like a fucking boner convention!"
Andrei glared. "You're just upset that little stereotype doesn't apply to you. Real men get rock hard in the morning. Didn't you know that? Maybe yours is too small to show."
"Fuck, man, I'm bigger than all y'all. I just don't have to show it off." Jamie turned his head away only to see Rick Ortez walking by with his hand over his crotch. As soon as Jamie saw Rick, Rick's own erection slipped from under the cover of his hands.
"Ortez!" Jamie cried. "Even you?"
Rick froze and covered himself again.
"Real men have boners in the morning, Ortez." Conner said. "Jamie's just a pussy who can't get it up."
Ortez smiled but Jamie looked back at Andrei and Conner with wide eyes. "What the hell?"
"Everybody, listen up!" Andrei raised his voice to a commanding bark. His normally soft accent strengthened. The sound made Conner's cock pulse. Everyone in the campground stopped what they were doing to listen.
"Apparently there are a few of you boys who seem to be a little...how should I put it?...EXCITED this morning.
Then, without any pretense, Coach Andrei pulled his shorts down and let his huge, bulging dong flop out for everyone to see.
As some of you...Hell, All of you can see that I'm pretty amped up too in more ways than one. Well, I just want you to know that those among you who seem to be showing off are only doing what nature intends. Morning wood is just of God's ways of separating the real men from the little boys. So if you're trying to push something special down this morning then you better stop it unless you're some kind of pansy assed faggot trying to keep from getting caught. Real men have real cocks and real cocks are hard in the morning. Got it?"
There was silence.
"I said, GOT IT?"
"YES, SIR!" they said.
Andrei let his shorts fall to to the floor and he stepped easily out of them.
Andrei looked to Conner and smiled then walked past Jamie, who hadn't moved. "Try and get it up, son." He said to Jamie. "Don't embarrass yourself."
As Andrei, Conner, and Rick walked to where breakfast was being served up they saw just what Jamie had feared. A good half of the players were sporting erections under their shorts. None compared to Conner and Andrei's respective displays but the gamut ran short but thick knobs to long snakes that couldn't be held down by jock straps. Some of the guys were awkwardly trying to arouse themselves before the coach went past them but gave up when confronted by the bouncing weapon staring them down openly in their faces.
Andrei ignored the line for breakfast, grabbed a plate, and piled on eggs, bacon, and sausage. Then he looked out at the two rows of picnic tables before him.
"This row" Andrei said, pointing to his left, "is where the real men sit. The little pussy boys have to eat on that side." and he pointed to the right row. "Priyatnogo appetita, boys. Chow down."
While most of the players tried to sit down at the Real Men tables, the players with hard ons ratted out the ones who were soft. "Didn't you hear the coach? If you ain't hard, go sit over there!" someone said. Andrei himself kept a watchful eye and shooed away anyone without a visible tent in their shorts.
"But, Coach," One of the players said, "I was rock hard this morning! It just got soft!"
"No excuses. Go sit with the little boys."
The players chuckled but Andrei's face was as hard as his dick. Even coaches were sent away if they weren't hard.
"Nicky, what the hell?" Paul said. "I know you're trying to ease up on the ridicule but this is..."
"Don't make me embarrass you, Paul."
"I'm ALREADY embarrassed! This is fucking queer!"
Andrei bolted from his seat, still hard as a rock. The sun shined through his shorts, revealing the true size of his package. A wet spot has developed from the tip of his dick and sparkled.
"Real men are hard in the morning, Paul! Go sit at the little boys' table. NOW!"
Paul threw his breakfast down on the ground. "You've lost your mind, Nicolai!"
"And you've lost your manhood. Come back when you find it."
The Real Men tables roared with laughter and cheers and Conner laughed harder than anyone. His boner was still surging and the sight of Coach Andrei's monster barely hidden under the nylon shorts made Conner even hornier. Yeah, it was queer, he guessed. But something about being at a table full of guys throwing wood made Conner feel more than just horny. He looked at the other guys around him and they smiled back at him and at each other. Conner changed his mind. Queer? No, not like this. Weird, yes. But it was also pretty damn cool.
---
Despite the boost or drop from the breakfast seating, everyone got punishment later on. Andrei was no slouch about practice and made sure each and every one of his players was doing their best. The sun rose higher into the sky and most of the morning boners dropped but Andrei was still half hard and as the day went on he found himself getting just as excited as he had been that morning. It didn't matter that he'd barely slept. He could have been denied sleep for a week and it wouldn't have mattered. There was a new energy in him and he felt it surge stronger every time he looked over to the lake.
By 11 o'clock the shirts were off. Andrei again started it by ditching his own while screaming at his linebackers. Even many of the veterans hadn't seen Andrei shirtless before and while there was no surprise at what was under Andrei's shirt, the sight of Andrei's hairy, heavily muscled torso still made the players take a few looks at their coach's body just to make sure that what they were seeing was real. The sizes of the players varied from slim but ripped guys like Conner to Tuck Conroy and his big gut paired with giant arms and the biggest, heaviest pecs on the team. But none of them compared to Coach Andrei's herculean physique or his over-sized cock.
Conner was especially glad that Coach Andrei was still throwing wood because Conner's own dick was on the edge of bursting. No one had noticed Conner gasp when he saw Andrei take his shirt off but then everyone else started taking off their shirts and Conner could barely take it. He WAS turning queer. There was no denying it. But how? Why? Sure, he'd noticed other guys' bodies before but they'd never made him feel so hot before. And the guys on the team were way more built than his teammates and buddies in high school. Even the other coaches were in shape. Where Andrei was a mountain of muscle, Coach Paul had a leaner body like Conner's plus a picture perfect six pack. Conner tried to ignore them and practice his kicking but every time ran to kick he'd feel his dick rubbing against his jock strap or his leg or his shorts. Every time he finished a kick his eyes would find some new, muscular, sweaty body to look at.
A hand clamped down on Conner's shoulder. "Keeping it up, I see." Conner turned to see Coach Andrei and saw that same expression that frightened him earlier but with more intensity. Conner's dick bounced in response.
"Uh, yeah." Conner said. "So are you." He looked to Coach Andrei's dick which was threatening to expose itself. Conner hadn't seen it himself but some of the other guys said they'd caught glimpses of it peeking out. And Conner caught his own glimpses of the other guys. Many of the Real Men of the day had gone soft but from time to time Conner noticed some had gotten hard again, even though he tried not to look.
"You can kick that ball pretty far." Andrei said. "I'm impressed."
"Thanks, Coach."
"What do you say we all take a break for a bit and cool off?"
Coach Andrei's hand didn't leave Conner's shoulder but the young kicker wished it would, but only to travel over the rest of his body. Rather than do that, Andrei blew his whistle.
"All right, men, good job. In fact, I think you've all done such a good job that before lunch we should all take time out to have a swim in the lake!"
The other players cheered but one of them piped up. "But what if we didn't bring any trunks, Coach?"
"Trunks? Who needs those? It's all guys here. If you don't have anything to swim in then just jump in naked." Andrei pulled off his shoes.
Conner clenched up in his groin and held it. "Don't cum." He said in his head. "Not now. Not here."
The other players looked around at each other. Nervous expressions stood side besides by cocky smirks. Both Conner and Andrei noticed many of the smirks came from their fellows from the Real Men tables.
"Well, what do you say, men? Let's go!" And with that Andrei shucked his shorts and walked to the lake. The players and coaches looked at each other with even more befuddlement but soon the smirking players took off their own shorts and shoes and pads. Others followed although some of them just went down to their underwear. A few tried to stay behind but, seeing everyone else go to the lake, they quietly made their way too. Only Coach Paul stayed where he was. The sun should have given him a tan but instead he turned pale.
"Faggots." he said in a whisper. "They're turning into faggots."
He looked away from the last players and coaches walking as if they were on a death march towards the lake. Conner still remained on the field.
"Well, at least YOU'RE still normal."
Conner didn't say anything. He was too busy trying not to cream himself. But, as soon as Paul left for the cabins, Conner made his own way to the lake, still on the edge. "We're all going to become like Andrei" was the thought that came too his mind. As the words repeated themselves to Conner he started to smile. He also wanted to scream but when he got to the lake he found that the scream wouldn't be one of terror but of joy. When he jumped in, when he felt the water enclose him, he let the last of his fear dissipate into the water.
There were cocks everywhere. Even the guys who'd gone in with underwear had already taken their briefs and boxers off to be like their brothers. And every cock was as hard as it could be. And through all of them, Conner could still see that none of them measured up to Coach Andrei's. He went up for air next to his coach who was treading water in the center of the lake.
"Now what, coach?" Conner said. "What do we do?"
"Just wait, Conner. It's coming." Andrei's face was peaceful even as Conner saw that the other players and coaches were becoming tense. They'd been laughing and splashing but a quiet fell on them. Soon they did nothing but tread water and breathe. Conner felt the tension grow within himself. He thought he was jerking off absent-mindedly but realized he wasn't touching himself.
The group started leaving the lake in a crescendo. Everyone was as red faced as they could be. None knew what the other was thinking but their thoughts and sensations were the same. It had been good at first. Sure, they were boning up in the water but it was cool. The water just felt so good and it felt so right to just get hard in the water. Even those who'd been at the little boys table at breakfast realized that Coach Andrei was right: real men were hard. So what if everyone else could see? Everyone else was hard too. It was awesome! But then it just got more awesome. Too awesome. For the first time they saw how beautiful and powerful all the bodies were around them and it made their cocks get even harder. But they weren't fags! They were real men, straight men, boner or not, and they couldn't get hard to that. They couldn't cum there with other guys around. The first one to leave (Jason Cook) saw everyone else as chasing him. Everyone thought the others were chasing them or fleeing them. But that wasn't the only problem or even the main problem. The feelings were too much. They were going to cum, whether they wanted to or not, and they had to go somewhere private before it was too late.
But when they got out of the lake and the air hit their skin, scorching it, they fell on their knees. The instructions came to them as instinct. Without talking to one another they arranged themselves around the lake and aimed their cocks at the water. Like it or not (and some of them really were liking it) they started to jack off just as Coach Andrei had done the night before. In the center of the lake only Andrei and Conner remained. Conner had tried to flee with the others but Andrei held him back, the hand on the younger man's shoulder suddenly warmer, and more welcome, then it had ever been before. "Stay here, Conner. I want you to feel this." he said.
And so Conner stayed, his cock throbbing and his head warring about what to do. "If I stay" he thought "I can't go back. If I leave I'll be drug back. I don't have a choice. They're going to make me a faggot." Conner looked to the man beside him whose face was like that of a heroic statue. The first time Conner saw Coach Andrei he couldn't stop staring at the man who looked and sounded nothing like the coaches Conner had met before. Never had Conner seen someone so large and powerful. The other players were just guys and the coaches were just men, but Andrei seemed like something beyond a man. If he hadn't been in love with Andrei before, Conner decided that he'd already been on the edge of love and that was good enough. Fuck the water. Fuck the magic. Whatever was about to happen, whatever was about to enslave him, Conner accepted at that moment.
He closed his eyes, and focused on the water he was treading in. All at once, he felt a million, tiny sensations, all across his body. He could almost see them: white sparks swimming around like sperm trying to find an egg. He felt a strong sense of pride to go with it. There was a fullness in his body as if he'd been empty but was becoming full. Not only was his dick hard but his entire body felt tight and rigid. His mind felt the same way. Conner wanted to stand on a mountain top or on the moon and plant his own flag. He wanted to stand over his enemies with his sword held high. He wanted to fucking cum but it wasn't time yet and he could wait. While Conner was in the water, it would decide when he could cum. That was the price for its power.
Conner opened his eyes just in time to see his teammates shoot their loads into the lake's waters. He felt another twinge with every shot. He'd been so absorbed in the lake's sensations that he hadn't heard their grunts and groans but he couldn't miss their shouts. Fuck yeah! Aw shit! Oh God! Even from far away Conner could tell--really, could FEEL--that his teammates and coaches were cumming like they'd never cum before. Some were near tears. Others were laughing. It was like someone had just made a touchdown in overtime at a bowl game--no, it was bigger than that. Whatever it was, the sensations were flowing into Conner and he felt like he was about to explode but the water kept him from that. He looked to Andrei, still as stoic and hard as before, and then swam back to shore. When the air hit his dick Conner didn't fall to his knees even though he wanted to. The others were just men but Conner had gone beyond that. He turned to face his coach still floating in the center of the lake and started stroking. Conner thought he would cum right away but there was still room to go. Around him his exhausted brothers cheered him. If any of them had gone soft they were already hard again. Conner fixed his eyes on Andrei's and saw what his coach had seen before. The hippies, the soldiers, the natives, and countless men before and perhaps after who would find power in the lake. Faggots? No. It was "straight" guys who were really queer. Real men, Conner realized, wanted real men and Conner wanted Andrei.
His coach, his master, commanded him "Cum!" and Conner obeyed. He threw his head back as the torrent burst from his cock. Many of the guys on the beach came again at the site. The sound of his cum hitting the water was like someone throwing rocks in it. Once inside, the cum flowed to Andrei. To the eye it disappeared but Andrei felt Conner's cum hit him more powerfully than the others'.
***
At the other end of the camp, Paul was back at his and Andrei's cabin, searching through Andrei's things to try and figure out why the coach had done such a grand turn-around. He even dug through the closets, searching through what might have been carpet at one point. However, after an hour of searching, he came up with nothing but dust, musk and a crawling bag of overgrown weed.
Feeling soiled after what he'd just dredged through, and from his treatment outside, Paul thought to take a shower--Andrei's cabin was equipped with a rather medieval one, but it functioned as it should--and instantly, his mind switched to the water. Of course, why hadn't he thought of it! One of the jocks must have drugged Andrei's water sometime last night, possibly as a joke, and turned Andrei queer. It all made sense! But who? How? He had to inspect every room and all the trash cans. More rummaging, yes, but it was necessary. Homosexuality was a sin. The Bible said so and it was never wrong. Maybe the kid didn't mean to do such a thing but that was no excuse. And Andrei was a real man, not some faggot. Paul had to save him, save all of them, from this sin. And the perpetrator would be punished.
Paul could see it so clearly he could almost touch it. One of those boys who thought he was so smart turning red when Paul showed him the evidence. The kid would stammer and say it wasn't him but Paul would know better. A quick call to the sheriff's office would have the prisoner dragged away in tight handcuffs and locked away in a cell in some dinky little town with a bunch of other petty convicts who would teach that boy just what he'd forced upon Andrei. Or, perhaps, Paul would be a little more sparing. Andrei would snap out of it soon and it was probably just a prank taken too far. But still, Paul would dish out punishment. Perhaps he'd make the kid take the drug himself and see how it felt to become a filthy fucking faggot. And while he was queering out, Paul would give the boy a spanking. Bare hand to bare ass. He'd smack that thick, hard ass until it was red and then that boy would start shooting. Faggots liked that sort of thing, didn't they?
Looking down, Paul realized he was rubbing his own eight inch cock through his shorts. Fuck. He didn't know why thinking that way got him hot. He supposed it was a power thing. Queer? Not him. Not Paul Peters. He had a wife and five boys all turned or just about to turn into real men. A fag couldn't raise a man let alone do the act to make one. Paul shook his head and then leaned against the wall. He took deep breaths and thought about baseball--he'd tried football before but for some reason that never worked. In a few seconds he was soft again and then he went out to search the cabins.
He never got to do his search.
They were sitting along the lake's shore. Their individual positions were different but together they made a line. Every one of them, players and coaches, were looking towards the center. Towards Andrei.
"Dear God," he thought. "They've become a cult."
If he'd thought about it he would have run, although he might have run towards the lake instead of away from it. Instead he walked, almost sneaked, to the shoreline. They were naked! Every single one of their well toned bodies was wet and glistening and throwing a rod so fierce they seemed like one collective erection.
"Lord, help us." He said.
He came to two of his players, Kenny Sullivan and Wes "Wasabi" Wataru. Kenny was rubbing his huge chest and he rolled his head back just as Paul walked up. "There you are, Coach Peters." he said. "You missed it." Wasabi looked back as well. "It's awesome coach. You're missing out."
"What manner of evil is this?" Paul said. He should have backed away. He wanted to back away but he couldn't. Why? The Devil? That was the only explanation. They were all possessed.
Paul didn't realize his cock was hard again.
"You're the last one, Paul" Andrei said. Even though Andrei was floating in the middle of the lake Paul could hear the man as if he were whispering in his ear. Or maybe his brain. "You were already close. Now you need to join us in full."
"No." Paul said. "It's wrong."
Kenny and Wasabi stood up and went to Paul. They pulled his shorts and underwear off, exposing Paul's leaking boner.
"It's all right, Paul." Andrei said. "This is the way we need to be. This is the path to real manhood."
"This is sinful!" Paul began to weep. Kenny and Wasabi lead him into the water and Paul did not resist physically.
"We can't do this! I can't do this! I'm not a fag!"
"There aren't any fags here, Paul." Andrei said. "Only real men. And real men are hard. Are you hard, Paul?"
"Yes." Paul said. His feet touched the water.
Andrei smiled. Paul shook his head. He tried to pull away but he couldn't break Kenny and Wasabi's grasp. Instead, he was pushed into the water as if he was being baptized.
The water burned but it didn't hurt--just the opposite. Paul cried out when his head emerged from the water. The only pain was in his erection which felt like it was near bursting.
Wasabi stroked Paul's dick and rubbed his back. Kenny started to run his hand down Paul's torso when Paul pushed away the both of them. "Get back!" He yelled. "If I'm going to spray my cum like this, I'm still going to do it with my own hands." He was panting as he looked to Andrei with a face full of hate and lust. "You fucking freak. You're a fucking--AAH!!!"
Even though didn't have the biggest dick or the biggest balls, Paul shot more seed than any of the other guys, even Conner. He screamed the whole and the rest of the men cheered him on, some even shooting for a second time at the site. Like the others' had, Paul's submission to the lake vanished in sight but raced towards Andrei like lightning.
---
Andrei didn't know he was roaring. He only heard a deep rushing sound like that of Niagara Falls. He saw nothing but white light. What the coaches and players saw, however, was their coach, their leader, rising from the lake into the air. His face, chest, and shoulders were bright red and his dick was even redder. Below him the water boiled. The light that came from it seemed brighter than the sun which was no longer visible. There were no stars either. The sky was so dark it was as if it didn't exist.
The men on the beach growled and grunted and shouted as they flogged their cocks and writhed on the ground, but their eyes were fixed on Andrei.
Even though it seemed like it was time, Andrei still hadn't cum. The sensations in his body kept rising higher, beyond his peak and beyond the next peak if one was possible. But of course there was another peak. Conner had just reached his again but he wasn't cumming. And then Coach Gruenwald was about to cum but he couldn't. One by one Andrei felt each of his men reach their orgasms but none of them crossed it until the last man was ready. It was Paul again. He stood in the line with the rest of the men and waited on his leader. When he reached his orgasm, Andrei held off and savored the moment. The rest of the men were in agony--and what sweet agony it was--but Andrei kept control. From his position he could see each of his men jacking in rhythm. He saw Conner near tears with pleasure. He saw Paul enraged and yet finally free of rage.
When he decided it was time he let the explosion hit. More cum shot from each dick than was natural. Even the lake shot it's load, firing thick jets of cum into the air like they were rockets.
Like every group of men that had come to the lake before them but the first, they never saw that the lake with the crystal clear water was really a lake full of more than one-thousand years' worth of semen. It had never dried, it had never even gone stale. The sperm cells that first fell into the lake were still swimming through the liquid and through the soil and through the minds and even the souls of the men who had come before them.
All of the men along the beach collapsed after their orgasms finished, some smiling, some even in tears as they lay unconscious. Only Andrei managed to stay awake as he floated back down to the ground. His dick was still hard and almost ready to shoot again. He wondered if he was a slave or a servant to the lake and it's power, but then he realized that real men weren't slaves to anyone, at least not in their hearts. Was it the lake talking or was it his own mind saying that? Andrei decided he didn't care.
***
From that point on, the camp was almost unrecognizable; though it still featured football practice, it now resembled an amalgamation of its original purpose, a roman coliseum and a gay porno. Everyday, the hunks in bed would wake in the morning and move to the outside, primed and ready for practice with the tackling dummies. While this had happened the previous day as well, nudity was now the norm, and erections were almost mandatory for the whole day. After lunch, the team would move to the lake, and learn to block by wrestling in the water; no-one was allowed to wank off or cum while in the water without watchful Andrei's approval, allowing both jocks to explode upon each other and fall into the lake, "revitalizing" the jocks and allowing them to continue practicing.
Andrei was now the equivalent of an army's general, watching over his "troops" and giving his comments. Paul, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky; because he resisted Andrei and stood against the process that bound him, he was no-higher than a cum repository, to be used at any moment without fail or question. As a joke, the guys moved a sleeping Paul into the camp's bathroom (the most recent building in the whole camp), specifically the shower stalls, which were now abandoned. Surprisingly, Paul never bothered himself to move back into Andrei's cabin, allowing anyone to go to him in the middle of the night without waking anyone else.
Due to the new status quo on gender, however, more than one of the jocks had come out of the closet and actively began pursuing some of the other jocks for "alone time" in the forest. Though privacy wasn't a concern, some of the guys who had been "queer" before were wanting some lasting relationships, which were now more than accepted. Conner himself was beginning to enjoy the company of Michael Sifun, the "black giant" of the team, who had admitted to having more than an idle attraction towards Conner since before the trip had been announced. Of course, Conner had gone to Andrei for advice, and Andrei had given the two his utmost approval, although silently, Andrei wished that Conner enjoyed his company more than that of Michael.
***
At Andrei's cabin, an electronic ring came from his bag. It rang for another minute before it switched to voice mail. The message would bring a great, lusty smile to Andrei's face when he listened to it.
"Hey, Andrei! It's Brad! Listen, I know that it's late, but the location for the soccer camp suddenly became unavailable. I don't know why, something about a problem with the water. I heard there was some empty space up where you have the football guys. Do you think we could change things around and bring my guys up to you?" Just thinking of all those soccer studs milking themselves away in the lake by his own football studs gave Andrei a really hard time concentrating on what Brad was saying.
This was going to be a VERY promising summer.
What a promising summer, it was. Brad's soccer team arrived! Their bodies glistening with sweat, half-naked, strutting their stuff. Especially one, struck Andrei's eye. A lad called Liam Crossfield.
He was one heck of hunk, tall, hunky, with a glistening six pack swaying his ass side by side but lacking in style. Clearly he was straight but instantly knew that Andrei's camp had a lot of "gays" around.
Liam loved the attention he received from his onlookers, but he did not know what happened to his timid self before he met Brad.
Little did Andrei know, that Brad was actually a master hypnotist. Straight laced, but clearly gay. Each of his team were hypnotized to the max.
Take Liam for an example. Liam was the loudest and annoying person he ever met. He first saw him play for Liquorice Bush, I minor team in West Yorkshire, but Brad knew of his potential.
He scouted him out, at first he attended the games, but by the 5th time he had the team under his sway, and saw Liam's massive and enormous cock during the showers!
At that sight he hypnotized him and made him trust him, creating an exhibitionist out of this wonderful hunk of a guy. Little did he know that Liam also had a very subservient nature. Liam often fantasized about woman torturing him, making him do stuff......
As the football team arrived, everyone in camp instantly fell in love. Especialy Eddie, the waterboy. Though before the Lake he was straight he instantly fell in love with Liam and Brad, jerking off at the first sight of
both mascular men.
This story was written by readers of the gay fiction website, the Narcissus Cursed Men Collection (the NCMC). It is distributed under the Attribution - Non-Commercial - ShareAlike 2.0 Creative Commons License. You must follow the conditions laid down in that license, or else you are forbidden by copyright law to duplicate this story in any form. This message is considered part of this work.
Comments
* Wide Receivers
20:01 on 2009-05-13 by Will
Ok, the story was pretty ok for a wiki, it was fairly hot and all, but the ending was pretty stupid, it had nothing to do with the actual theme of the story. The actual story should have ended right after it said: This was going to be a VERY promising summer. Whoever added onto this and tried to change the theme did a pretty poor job at it and the fact that it never even got finished makes it worse, but that's just my opinion, take it or leave it.
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* Wide Receivers
02:38 on 2009-05-16
The story at first was great...and then THIS ending was added. Sorry man, but you just did it WAY too quickly. Start the sequal if you want, but start it slower, make it more convincing. Otherwise, you're just a fake.
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