Champion's Reward
Author's note: This story was inspired by the amazing art of Rev. I loved this picture so much, I had to write a fitting story to go with it.
http://www.yiffstar.com/index.yiff?pid=30936
Also, I would like my new editor SkippOtter for being awesome. This story was a lot of fun to write, and I'm glad I got a skilled writer like him to edit it for me.
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General Warning - This is a work of fiction that contains scenes of sex between two males. If you are under 18 or not into that kinda thing, dont read. Otherwise, have fun!
Also, I do not own the art this work was based off of. That belongs to the amazing Rev.
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"Leon! Get to work on that alternator and don't forget to flush the transmission when you're done!"
"Yeah, I heard ya." Stupid old lion. If it wasn't for all the contacts I have through him, I would have quit months ago with everyone else. Why am I still working at this placeanyway? Oh yeah, I need money and working with cars is better than asking if you want fries with that.
Life isn't easy for a racer, no matter what those fuckers who think otherwise say. It takes a lot to do what I do for a living. I didn't start it for the money; I did it for the rush. I'm not any type of racer either. I'm a drifter. Yeah, yeah, that shit they do in Japan. To my surprise, it has gained popularity here in America. I was happy as a pig in shit for that.
I started drifting with my first car, a piece of crap 1989 Toyota Corolla. I loved that thing, at least before I made the over-tuned engine catch fire from pushing it too hard. Even doin' that made me happy. Like I said, I race for the rush. I do everything for the rush.
After I left high school, I didn't go to college. What the fuck for? I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I was gonna help drift racing kick NASCAR off the planet. Why would anyone do that anyway? Driving around makin' left turns for like five hundred laps, that takes no skill. Takin a hairpin turn at 80mph when you're supposed to do 15mph, and then doing five laps of that kinda shit, that takes skill. So, I moved outta New York and went to Los Angeles.
I had it easy in high school, now that I look back on it. I was the most popular guy around. I was captain of the football team, not to mention I was jacked like Jesus. Anyone who wanted to find me had a simple task. All you had to do was look for the jacked, six foot lion that was surrounded by people and always had a hot girl on each arm, ready to fuck at a moments notice. I got offered a lot of scholarships, but college wasn't for me, and I don't regret it.
When I told my folks my life plan, they went ballistic. I didn't give a shit. I had a dream, and a good twenty thousand saved up from summer jobs and other things. I figured I'd be good on my own in Cali. Damn was I wrong. I had to get another job a month in to live there. I had a savings account, but that was my last resort. So I got a job with, big surprise, cars. Same place I'm bitching about now. I work for this old fat ass lion named Sam. I'm his top mechanic and his only mechanic now. He drove the rest of them away months ago with his, "I'm always right" attitude, but I didn't give two shits 'cause I knew he was full of it, and I still don't. Even though he's a bitch and a half to deal with most of the time, it's worth it to work here for a racer. This old man knows everything about the racing world, so it's worth dealin' with his shit.
"Alright Sam! Transmission's done and the alternator is replaced!"
Didn't take long, like an hour, since I've been doing this shit for months.
"Alright, just tell the customer his car is done and you're done for the day."
About fucking time. I've been here since eight in the morning. I was supposed to be gone at two. How the hell that old fart gets me to stay till freaking eight at night is beyond me. Whatever, overtime pay always works.
"Yo, Terry! Your car's done!" I said. Terry is a racing buddy I made here, so every now and then, I threw the wolf a bone. His car needed more than the alternator and flush, but Sam wasn't gonna hear about that.
"Leon!!!" Oh god! What is it now? "I don't care if you know the customers! Be professional with them!"
"Aww take the pole outta your ass old timer!"
"Haha, dude, I don't know how you do it. I thought you'd leave with Mike and the rest of them," said Terry.
"Please, they're all retards. I ain't gonna quit till I got a sponsor."
"You still don't have one?"
"Nah bro. Everywhere I go says that it's too new to sponsor a drifter in the U.S."
"Well..." Terry started saying. "I'm sorry to say it bro, but even I found a sponsor."
"WHAT?!" This isn't happening. This could not be happening. "WHO?!"
Terry wasn't looking good. He had to have been my closest friend here, and I could tell it was killing him to tell me this, but I was too pissed to care. I wanted to know. "It was Pepsi...."
"......" I didn't know what to say then. I went to Pepsi two weeks ago, and they gave me shit about drift never going to make it in America. Those mother......
"I'm so sorry bro. I really mean it."
"I know you do, but right now, I'm done for the day. Hopefully some sleep will get rid of this crap."
"Alright man. Gimme a call and I'll see if I can help you out. Later." Terry walked out of the door.
As soon as he was far enough, I slammed the counter and let out a roar. I was pissed to say the least. I calmed a bit and grabbed my jacket. I needed a smoke. I reached into my jacket, and grabbed my pack of Marlboro Reds. I put the cigarette in my mouth, and put the pack back in my jacket. I reached for my Zippo and lit it up, taking a deep, DEEP drag. I blew out the smoke and I felt the blood rush all the way to my head, and it felt wonderful. I swore when I was younger I would never smoke, but shit got stressful when I left home. It seemed like smoking was the only thing keeping me from killing whoever pissed me off. I took another drag, feeling the same rush, but a little less now. It never stopped being good.
I started to walk to my tiny studio apartment like six blocks away. Three blocks into the walk, I lighted up another smoke, feeling the need for it. Everything about this racing thing seemed to go wrong. I had no clue what to do, but I made the choice. I was planning on seeing my choice through, instead of being a pussy. This was my dream, not some random thought. I walked into my building and went straight to bed. Tomorrow was the day I would find a sponsor, and I needed sleep to do that.
************
"DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT!!!"
Looking around, screaming out my frustration in the middle of the street with a cop nearby wasn't a good idea. I smiled and walked away as I got the "Look mommy! A crazy!" looks. As I walked away, I could only replay what just happened in my head. I went to the Hess cooperate office and the Shell office. Shell flat out said no, but Hess said they'd found someone. I wasn't a happy lion at the moment.
I decided to take a break. Some food would make me feel better. Plus, it was hot today. Really hot. I went to BK, ordered up a Triple Whopper meal, and sat down. Now, the worst thing possible happened. All of a sudden, fucking Craig walks in. I hate this fucker. He used to work with me at Sam's shop, but he got fed up and left with all the other retards. Little pussy if you asked me. I saw him coming toward me and I can only roll my eyes in disgust. I can't even leave since I'm not even done with my food yet.
"Hey Leon. Still pretending to be a racer?"
"Shut the fuck up douche. You don't know shit about cars, yet to claim to be the best in the city."
"Cause I am you stupid jock." I smirked at this 'cause I knew he hated jocks like me. Craig was a fat ass panda. He was so out of shape, and I'm guessing he was a geek in high school. He was my age, but he had more rolls than a bakery. He always wore a pair of shorts with some hoodie, which proved he was a douche from going out in ninety degree weather like that.
"Um, no. You're not. Sorry, but I'm the best in the underground bitch." This dumbass looked smug for some reason, I couldn't figure out why.
"Whatever you say, Leon. All I know is that I got Marlboro to sponsor me, and your no talent ass has no one."
That did it.
"What the fuck are you smoking Craig? There's no way in hell you'd get them to sponsor you."
"Wrong, asshole. As for what I'm smoking, it's Marlboro's now." He went and pulled out something from a bag he had with him. My jaw dropped. There it was. A Marlboro racer jacket. It was definitely real. I could see the trademark all over the team jacket. I just sat there in complete shock. I didn't know what to say. Unfortunately, Craig did.
"Later loser. I'll send you a picture of me with that winner's trophy. Haha haha!"
I just sat. I couldn't do anything else. Again, a sponsor company I went to weeks ago passed me up and chose someone else. I lost my appetite right then. I looked at the last bites of my Whopper and it made me sick. I needed a smoke, and more than ever now. I threw my food out and went outside. I pulled out my pack and glared at it angrily.
"Marlboro's.....why of all companies.....fucking fat panda...."
Disgusted with my own favorite brand, I crushed the pack and chucked it in the garbage.
******************
"Well, looks slow today kid."
"Yeah.... slow....." I wasn't in the mood to talk. Even though this was one of the rare cases the old man was nice to anyone.
"Hmm? What's eatin' ya Leon? You're never this down. Hell, you love the down days we have."
"I'm just a little depressed Sam. I don't know what the fuck is going on." I really didn't know. I just needed to talk at this point. Hell, maybe talking about it would give me some insight.
"About?"
"The Drift spec race coming up."
"Oh, that's right. I remember now. Supposed to replace NASCAR. Hahaha. So, why are you down about that?"
"I....can't find a sponsor...."
I finally admitted it.
"Oh...."
"I don't know why I can't find one. Everyone else in the race found one. I just keep getting turned down..."
"Well...I might know a little about that then..."
"WHAT?!" He KNEW something?! This I had to hear. This could finally make sense of months of searching and being turned down.
"Well Leon....I guess it's because of me."
"You? What do you mean?"
"Tell me. These companies you went to, did you make appointments?"
"Well, yea. They wouldn't see me otherwise."
"Then it is my fault you never got a sponsor."
"Okay Sam, time to spill it. What the hell are you talking about?"
"Well, back in my day, I was a racer also. I'd say I was the best." The old lion started laughing, I couldn't understand why. "Unfortunately, that was my downfall. I made a lot of enemies. I guess people don't change with time. All of my old rivals and enemies work for the large company race teams."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, you work for me. You haven't gotten a sponsor 'cause they looked at your background, and saw my name."
Everything was making sense now. That's why everyone quit. That's why they all got sponsors. That's why I was without a sponsor, one week before the race. I didn't know what to feel. I was angry, relieved, scared, and confused at the same time. All of that together, turned just into rage.
"YOU HAVE TO BE SHITTING ME!!!!" I erupted. I got up and the table and chair I was at flipped over from my outburst. "I CAN'T RACE BECAUSE OF YOU?! THAT'S THE BIGGEST BULLSHIT OF ALL! I'M NOT YOU!"
I went on ranted for a few minutes. I finally calmed down and panted from rage.
"Are you done now?" asked Sam. I just nodded. Months of aggravation came out, and Sam saw that. Probably the only reason I didn't get punched right then and there.
"I'm sorry kid. I didn't mean to kill your life with my past. I wish I could make it up to you."
That's when it happened. I smirked as an idea came to me.
"You mean that?" Sam nodded slowly.
"Then prove it. Be my sponsor."
"What!?"
"You heard me. You said it yourself. You ruined this for me. The least you can do is make it up to me by being my sponsor. Not to mention that I'd win. I got skill. I got talent. I'm the best from this entire generation."
"Follow me kid." He started to walk away. I couldn't get where he was going. I saw him go into the back room. Sam never let anyone in here It was huge and had like fifteen locks on it. He pulled out his keys and proceeded to unlock them all. He opened the door and waved at me to go in. I walked into the dark room. It was pitch black. Then, I heard the click of a light switch. The room was suddenly illuminated and I almost passed out at the sight I saw cars. Dozens and dozens of cars. Either collector cars or just amazing ones in general. I looked around and my brain could only see a few. It was overwhelming seeing all of them. I saw a 1967 Mustang, a Toyota MR2, a Nissan Skyline R32 GTR, even a rare Toyota Trueno Sprinter. I swear, the drool from my mouth wouldn't stop flowing.
"Get up and stop drooling," said Sam as he walked over to another area of his private garage. Thats when I saw a beat up car. I could tell what it was. It was a car that I could never find for some reason, but it was my favorite. It was a Mazda RX-7 from the late eighties. It's referred to as the FC, and the engine was amazing. The hood was up and I could see it had the original engine. I wanted this. I had to have it. The race was the last thing on my mind. The only thing I could think about was the beat up beauty in front of me. I snapped out of my daze when Sam started to speak.
"This is the only car you could use. It's in working condition, but that's it. There is no way this could be ready for drift in a week."
"Then, you'll sponsor me?!"
"I owe you that much, but I can't give you anything to drive. The rest of these will never hit the track again."
I still couldn't speak well. I could only nod. Today was really fucking weird.
"Like I said, you can't race in anything I have."
"WHY NOT? This FC will dominate with me behind the wheel."
Sam started laughing. I was getting pissed now. I felt like a cat whose owner was holding a cat toy in front of him. Every time it seemed like it was in reach, they would pull away. The toy was my dream, and Sam was my owner. I was about to claw his eyes out.
"You are too young, no track experience, and the car needs more, a lot more tuning. The car wins the race, not the pilot... we are no fucking bank, that minus and minus gives a plus out. I don't got the money to fix this up in a week, so your outta luck kid."
That was the last straw. I was beyond pissed now. I don't think there's a word for how angry I was.
"You could go fuck yourself Sam! I don't care what it is, just give me a car with four wheels and I'll make magic. I'll make so much magic on the track that that fucking Potter kid from those books would be jealous."
Now he guffawed.
"WHAT?!" I screamed provoked from the cynicism in his laugh.
"Well Kiddo, If you win that damn race, I'm not gonna fuck myself, how you told me - YOU gonna fuck me. And that will never happen!" He started to walk away, back to his office.
"Wait!"
He only waved and kept walking.
"Do what you want. Fix up that RX-7, but I'm not putting a cent into it. I have to go file your paperwork for the race."
"I said WAIT!"
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"What you just said, I'll take that as a bet. WHEN I win, I'm fucking your ass till it's raw!"
"If you say it that way, if you lose, you're fired."
He walked away and laughed again. I looked back at the RX-7. I've never been so driven in my life. The race itself was bad, but what he said, that sarcastic bet, that would be a great rush, especially if I won. Like I said, I do everything for the rush.
*****************
I pulled my head out of the engine and yawned. My neck and back felt like shit. I looked out the window and saw only black. I looked at my watch and my eyes went wide. It was four in the morning! I fell asleep! In the fucking engine!
This was harder than I thought. The race was still 5 days away, and I've been working nonstop on the RX-7 for 2 days straight. I needed to get it done by Thursday night. I need at least one day to completely relax and calm my nerves. Then Saturday was the race, and I needed to focus on that. I wasn't even halfway done with the mods to the engine. After that, the tires need to be swapped. Then the real hard part, customizing the suspension setting and other tweaks with multiple test drives.
As much as a pain in the ass this was, I loved every moment of it. This was my dream car. It had the most amazing engine in it. I was going to make this car mine, from the interior to the tires, everything about it was going to be custom, and I was going to win. I was putting my heart and soul into this car since Saturday, there was no way I was going to let someone else but myself win. Not Terry, not any of the others, and definitely not Craig.
The only other thing that was driving me was that bet I made with Sam. I have no clue why it was my drive. All I know is that every time I thought about that old lion talking down to me, all I could do was work harder. I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to make him eat his words, and by the end of this, I was going to make him eat my dick also.
I cracked my neck and got back to work.
******************
It was race day. It was my day. My car was tuned to perfection. Everything about it was meant to do nothing but win. I drove the car to the station that they had given to me for any emergencies. The RX-7 had Sam's logo on it and I saw all the glares I got from the other teams. I guess Sam was right. Nobody in the racing world liked him. I made a mental note not to ever get too cocky, or the same thing might happen to me.
I saw the other cars around, and I started to get a little nervous. Everyone had speed demons for cars. I saw a Shelby Mustang, a Skyline R34, and even a few Lancer Evo IX's. They all had cars from the past six months, and I had a car that was almost as old as I was. I got to the station and saw Sam. From the way he looked, I could tell he got a good look at me staring at the competition.
"Scared Kiddo?"
"No, of course not." At this moment, I realized I was a horrible liar when I was worried.
"Haha, don't let the other cars get to ya. Remember, this is drift, not drag. They could have all the power they want, but you know as well as I do that there are no straight-aways on this track. That means their power is worth the shit that comes outta their asses."
I was stunned. I was so psyched out by the cars, I forgot that completely. The course was challenging for sure. If the driver had to stop at all for any repairs, they were out. In drift, tires die easily, so saving them is key. The course started with a short straightaway, followed by two ninety degree turns. After that, there were three long and drawn out 180 turns, with five hairpin turns right after, each turning in the opposite than the last. After that, everything was a turn, and most of them were extremely sharp. This entire course needed to be covered five times, and the entire course was ten miles long total. All the cars I was facing against had to have at least 400hp, while I had 320. That was more choice than not being able to up it. The more horsepower, the harder it is to keep your technique. These guys were gonna have a problem. I felt more at ease now. I sighed.
"Thanks Sam. I needed that."
The old lion just smirked and pulled a pack and a light out. I stared at the pack like a starving man looks at a big juicy steak. Sam saw this, and held out the pack.
"Want one kid?"
"Yes, yes I do. But no."
"Hahaha. Why's that kid? You haven't had a smoke with me for months!"
"Heh, I only smoked one brand. I must have tried every kind on the planet, but I only like one." I glared at the Marlboro race station. "Now, I refuse to smoke a brand that will hire Craig."
Sam only laughed as he took another drag. A smoke was tempting right now, but if there was one thing I was going to keep, it was going to be my pride.
"Speak of the devil...." Sam said in a low voice, almost as if he loathed saying it.
"No...." I turned and I saw it. Craig. I rolled my eyes as I walked over toward my car. He was still a fat ass panda, but now he was wearing normal clothes and not the shit shorts and hoodie as usual. He was wearing that stupid team jacket.
"Well, well, looks like Leon made it. Who'd you get as a sponsor? Don't tell me this old fart!"
"None of your fucking business Craig."
"And is this your car? This is a joke. You're gonna get your ass handed to you. See the Nissan GTR over there? Marlboro bought it for me. And it's gonna run you off the track."
"Craig, get a life. You don't know two shits about cars. Your as worthless as the shit that comes outta your ass, and I'll prove it when this car and me kick your sorry, fat, egotistical panda ass back to wherever the fuck you came from."
He was pissed. He was pissed and I was soooooo happy. He walked away, huffing to himself. I looked over to Sam. He was bursting with laughs, probably 'cause I used his line from a few moments ago. Hey, it was fitting. I smiled and got ready. I was gonna win, no matter what. I had too many people to prove wrong, Sam being one of them.
*******************
"RACERS! START YOUR ENGINES!"
Been there, done that. My FC engine was ready to destroy everyone here.
"3! 2! 1! GO!!!"
I peeled out, but I didn't get the lead there. I settled for 4th. I wasn't going to waste my tires here when I had a long race ahead of me. With in ten seconds, everyone was going at least 60mph. The first turn was coming up. Easy one, but the next one that followed would be hard. I needed to drift this on the outside, and immediately drift the opposite way and take the inside. That should turn a few heads.
"WHAT AN AMAZING DRIFT! THE LONGSHOT LEON MATHEWS TOOK THE LEAD BY ATTACKING THE OUTSIDE!"
As expected, everyone went to drift the inside. They all stayed at 70mph. I went to the outside and increased to 80. I could take this at 110mph, but my tires would pop by the third lap. I took the turn and turn some heads I did. I went from 4th to 1st in one shot. They all must have forgotten about the 2nd turn, 'cause they all took the outside line. I took the inside at a much higher speed.
"No time to get cocky," I said to myself. "That was the easy part. Hard part is keeping the lead."
The hairpins came up fast. I took the inside with the first one. I panicked a little. The front tire fell into the gutter! Couldn't brake or I'd lose. The rear tire on the same slid fell in also. I thought I would die with a stupid mistake. Taking the turn too sharp. How could I be so stupid!
In that split second, I noticed something. The car was faster. The car wasn't spinning out. It actually got faster! The tires were gripping to the gutter and shot me through like nothing. I pulled out of the gutter and noticed I was a good 200 feet ahead. I saw the next hairpin. I decided now was the perfect time to use a great trick that I just learned by accident. By the end of the hairpins, I was so far ahead; I couldn't see any of those shit cars. All I saw was empty track and the crowd going crazy. This race was mine.
**********************
I felt amazing. I won. I not only won, but I beat every track record for drift, and even regular racing. Three cars flipped trying my gutter trick. They weren't hurt, but those pretty Lancers will never drive again. Some people couldn't believe it. They said I cheated. After 2 hours of deliberation, the judges decided it wasn't cheating. It was using the track to the fullest extent. I never went off the track, Therefore, I never cheated. The best thing about winning was the look on Craig's face. He looked like he wanted to kill himself. Maybe 'cause his pretty GTR flipped when he tried my Gutter trick. Then I noticed Terry run over.
"DUDE! What the hell was that?!"
I only laughed. I couldn't respond.
"You didn't win. YOU RAPED!"
"Haha, I guess I did."
"You raped in an old ass car at that! What the hell did you do at the hairpins?!"
"Heh, that old ass car is set a lot higher than all of the other ones. I let the tire catch and I didn't lose speed. When the others tried it, their car are set so low, they spun out and crashed."
"Dude, congratulations! You deserved that!"
"Hey, you pulled 2nd!"
Terry laughed as he walked away. He was still my best friend after all this. Now the race was over. I won. I shut up all those companies who turned me down, all those wannabes who talked down on me, and I shocked everyone else. The only things left to do were simple. First, I get my trophy, my prize money, and talk to the press. After that, it was time to collect what I was owed.
************************
I drove my amazing car back to its temporary home. I looked around and saw Sam sitting in a chair, having a smoke. I smirked. The old fart always had a smoke after he was satisfied with some work that I did or he did. This was always the same. I could tell he was happy. Hell, I was happy. I won and I was the underdog in every way, shape, and form. I closed the garage door and walked over to him. He looked at me and smiled.
"Good job Leon. I had my doubts you could win, or even make it past the first lap." He laughed at his own bad joke.
"Yea, I won. I proved everyone wrong. I went in the bitch and I came out the king."
"Hahaha, you sure did Kiddo."
"Now I'm gonna collect on our bet."
"What bet?"
"You remember. You said I could never win. I said you could go fuck yourself. Then you said that if I won, I'd be the one fucking you. I'm here to collect."
The look on his face was priceless. He even dropped his cigarette. In the year I knew Sam, he never let a smoke go to waste. He sat there in shock. The smoke burned out to the filter before his brain processed what I said.
"Kid, you can't be serious. That was called sarcasm."
"Oh, I'm serious. I didn't win that race to win alone. I won to prove them all wrong. I won to prove you wrong. I can't make them eat their words, but I'll make sure you eat yours."
"No dice kid. I ain't a cocksucker."
"That's a shame. I was thinking of staying and working for you. Damn, I need a job, and I need someone to sponsor my races. Hell, a champion racer working for you might bring in an insane amount of business. But, since you don't seem interested, I can live off my prize money for a few months. And I don't think I'll have trouble finding a sponsor anymore."
"So you're blackmailing me for a lay?"
"Sam, I don't wanna do that. I wanna work for you. Hell, I know I can depend on you. I know I can trust you. But your faith in me is another story. I need to know you have faith in me ALL the time. I can think of no better way than this."
Sam was silent. He had no snappy come backs, no anger, nothing. He knew I was serious, and I was. Sam was like a father to me ever since I got in the city, now that I look back on it. I wouldn't want anyone else as a sponsor, but I needed to know he would be good on his word. I saw him weighing it all in his head. It was dead quiet for ten minutes. All of a sudden, he got up and walked to the door. I thought he was leaving, but he was making sure the doors were all locked.
"Kid, if you breathe a word of this to ANYONE..."
"Hey, this never happened after it happens."
He was nervous. Really nervous. As if I opened up a can of worms from his past. He started to walk back over to me. As he walked over to me, he started taking his button down shirt off. Now it was my turn to be shocked. He wore a medallion around his neck, and he still had his trademark brown hat on. I saw his stomach and it hung over just a little, showing his beer belly. I stood there in shock as he grabbed my head and pulled me into a deep kiss.
My eyes bulged. I felt his tongue against my lips. I let them open a crack and he barged in. I felt his tongue attack every part of my mouth. It felt like he was tasting water for the first time in months. He was drinking this all in. I let him have his way. Oh boy did he have his way. I felt his tongue massage mine. I even tasted the smoke he had had. There was so much passion in this one kiss, it was amazing. This was the best kiss I had ever had. We must have made out for a good fifteen minutes before he pulled away.
I was panting. It was intense. He was panting. I couldn't stop ginning for some reason.
"Wha....what...was that...." I panted as I asked. I was out of breath. I've never been so fucked up after one kiss before.
"You...want...a fuck....then I'm....gonna give....you the fuck of your life..."
I was shocked at his words. I had to ask the next question, 'cause it was something I was curious about for months, and that kiss got me thinking again. He was at least forty. He had no wife, no kids. His life was the shop, and his office only had pictures of men.
"Sam...are you gay?"
He turned his head to the side a little.
"That's why I said not to breathe a word about this kid."
I nodded and ran my hand through my mane, down to my neck, and then down to my bare chest. Wait. Bare? When did he.... Oh, this guy was good. Real good.
He leaned back into me. He gave me another lust filled kiss, but a lot shorter this time. I felt his hands on my back, slowly crawling down to my pants. When his hands got there, he broke the kiss and bit my neck, sucking on what was in his mouth. He was real good alright. He hit the sweet spot on my neck in one try. I moaned out loud. My eyes were shut tight. I hadn't had sex of any form in months. I was too busy to date, let alone get off. The intensity of Sam's actions was driving me wild, even if I wasn't gay. He moved around my entire neck, every bite sending me over the top. I felt him pull away and drift down a bit. I could think a little now, and I felt a breeze at my cock, which was rock hard and dripping. I couldn't get over his skill. The pleasure was so absolute; I didn't notice I was naked till I was.
Sam dropped to his knees while I was in my little daze. I snapped out of it only to be thrown into another daze as he licked at my cockhead, licking up some precum. I hissed with pleasure. He nosed around my crotch, licking my balls as he did so. He was teasing me, trying to get me horny. He didn't need to try hard though. I felt my balls drop into his mouth as he suckled on them gently. I couldn't even look. My eyes were still shut and my head was thrown back. I was moaning like it was my first time. He stopped and pulled my balls out of his mouth. He looked up at me.
"You having fun, Kiddo?"
I couldn't talk right. All I could do was nod vigorously.
"Good."
That was the only thing he said before he swallowed me whole. I tried to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. It was as if he swallowed my voice with my cock. My mouth just hung there, gaping open with my eyes. I felt my cock down his throat. I had a good foot of dick on me, but he took it like nothing. I heard him murring to himself. He was drinking in the feeling again, just like with the kiss.
Everything about this blowjob was unreal. His tongue circled my head over and over. His teeth were all but gone. He was slurped my cock with such a need, I could have sworn he was eating after being starved. Then again, everything he did seemed like he was starved of sex. I figured out what he was thinking. If he had to do this, he was going to enjoy this to the fullest.
I didn't last ten minutes. Sam was too good. I roared as I came for the first time in weeks. Sam just took it all in. He sucked harder, milking every drop outta me. My vision was dazed. I was cumming hard, and it didn't seem to be stopping. This was something my body wanted for months, and it was going to take advantage of the opportunity. After a few minutes, it stopped, and I fell on my back. That didn't stop Sam though. The old man kept sucking after I came. He played with my balls and got another hard on out of me after some prodding.
I was on my back. I saw him stand up through my pants. I was trying to catch my breath. Sam was not. He was fine. He was ginning like a retard though. He dropped his pants and I saw his dick flop out. It was hard and dripping like a garden hose. He wasn't as big as me, but still big. I saw him eye my hard cock. He got some pre off his own cock and turned around. He rubbed it on his asshole, giving me a full view of his floor show. I just sat there, watching him rub his asshole, seeing the pleasure wash over his face, if only slightly. He rubbed it all over, the finger slipping in easily. Once he was done, he turned his head and cocked at my cock. It was still hard from watching Sam enjoy fingering himself.
Sam grabbed my pole, and I moaned at the grip. He squatted and I felt his hole at the tip of my cock. It felt like it could slip in at any moment. The old lion turn his head away from me as he began to sit. He tossed his head up and moaned loudly, overshadowing my own moan from being enveloped.
His ass was insanely tight. I moaned and squirmed in pleasure as he ground his ass on my dick, making sure every part was in his ass. He finally stopped and I was panting from all of it. I felt him raise my knees slightly. He then put his bare feet on my knees on mine. My legs instantly tensed in order to support his weight. He turned around, with a smart ass grin on his face, which was different from my horny smile.
"Well? What happened Kiddo? I thought you were gonna fuck me."
Oh, that did it. He wanted a fucking, and I was gonna give it. I thrust up my hips using my knees and feet that were planted to the floor. I let out a moan, and I thought I heard a grunt from Sam. I dismissed it and started to pummel his ass hard. All I heard were grunts and moans from there on. I was pistoning in and out of his ass as fast as I could. The pleasure was intense. Sam was so tight; it felt like his ass didn't want me to leaving his furnace of a hole. I basked in the pleasure his hole was giving me. It was definitely the fuck of my life, as Sam put it so bluntly before.
I couldn't tell if Sam was enjoying himself or not. That is, until he fell back into me. He put his hands down at ether side of my head to keep from falling over as I continued to hilt myself in his ass. I saw his face scrunched up as I looked and saw his cock dripping. I smirked a little as I reached and grabbed it. At that moment, Sam let out the most effeminate moan I've ever heard as I started to stroke him off.
"I can see your enjoying yourself."
I knew Sam wanted to yell at me for that, but I only gripped harder, making him squirm from the touch. I felt the cum drip through my fingers, but I didn't mind too much. Hell, Sam had done MUCH worse before.
I sped up my thrusts, feeling my climax coming up quickly. Now, I was the one grunting and Sam was the one moaning. I could only imagine what this scene must have looked like. I was on the ground naked. Sam was sitting on my rock hard cock while I pounded him over and over. To top it all off, I was jerking him off hard while he spasmed from the pleasure.
After a little while longer, I couldn't hold it anymore. I roared as I came hard, shooting my seed deep up his ass. Sam must have loved the feeling, 'cause he joined in my roar, cumming hard with a shot that went clear across the floor, almost to the door. I kept thrusting until I felt the energy leave me. I was drained, in more ways than one.
Sam and I were both spent. We just lay there, panting, trying to regain some form of energy. We must have been at it for over an hour, and nether of us had expected it to be that good. I closed my eyes, embracing my afterglow, and I heard Sam murr, clearly doing the same. I hadn't had sex in months and nothing as good as that. I wasn't planning on getting up for a bit.
After he got some energy, Sam got up. He moaned a little as my dick flopped out of his ass, cum leaking out with it. He walked over to his clothes and started to put everything back on. I was still spent. How the hell could he be up already! He walked toward the door and lighted up a smoke. Heh, an after fuck smoke, kinda saw that coming. What I didn't see coming was what he said next.
"Alright kid, get your ass home and get some sleep. Then, make sure your ass is up by nine tonight. We're headin' out to celebrate. Next week we start your training. That gutter drift was a fluke, so we're gonna make sure you can win any which way."
With that he walked out. I only smirked to myself as the door closed and I lay back down. I reflected a little on the event of today. All in all, I'd say I got pretty well rewarded.
Edited by SkippOtter