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When I woke up that morning, the odds of me shooting semen onto the face of one of my new teammates must have been at least one thousand to one. They always said I was lucky, but not that lucky. But it had happened. I pinched myself. I wasn’t dreaming.

“Sorry, I’ve made a bit of a mess of your face,” I said, as Matt knelt on the floor with my dick in his hand and a gallon of cum on his face. “Watch out! There’s some about to drip off the end of your chin.”

Matt scooped it up with a finger. Then he dangled the same finger over the head of my dick and let the drop of cum drip down onto the silky, curved surface. He moved his head forward slowly, and he licked the drop from my glans with his tongue. He trawled it across his upper lip too, drawing more of my spunk into his endlessly thirsty mouth.

“Man! Do you always cum that much? Massive mate. Massive! You must have been saving that up for weeks. Do you have a licence to operate that thing? Your cock’s dangerous mate,” said Matt. He wiped the back of his hand over one of his cheeks and then hung it out in front of him as cum drooled down his fingers, some of which fell to the floor. “Do you have a towel or something?”


“Make it a large one mate.”

“Oh shit! Sorry.”

Now that I’d shot my load, I acted like a self conscious dork again. I backed up a couple of steps until the backs of my calves hit the chair. I turned towards the bathroom. My shirt stuck, in parts, to my sweaty back like cling-film. The hem brushed against the skin of my lower back, just above my butt. I contemplated covering my naked arse with one of my hands. Instead, I grabbed the sides of the bottom of my shirt and tugged downwards as I walked. It made no difference. My shirt was too short.

“Don’t worry about your arse man.”

Oh shit. I had wondered whether Matt could see, considering all that spunk in those eyes, the ones that had just sent me into orbit. When I reached the bathroom I unfolded a couple of towels from the vanity cabinet and wrapped one of them around my waist. I wondered how I looked after all that had happened. I checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked like crap. I filled the washbasin with cold water and splashed it over my flushed face.

“Are you coming mate?,” shouted Matt from the other room. “Get your arse back in here man. Your cum’s everywhere. It’s dripping onto the floor now.”

I took my shirt off, unwrapped the towel from my waist and wiped the lingering sweat from my body. Then I retied the towel to my waist, put my shirt back on, and walked out to where Matt waited.

He hadn’t moved a muscle. He was as I had left him, kneeling on the floor with one cum smeared hand suspended out in front of him as though he didn’t want to touch anything with it. But then he waved it at me. “Hey man. Chuck me the towel. I’ve got your stuff all over me. It’s all over the place. Bucket loads of it. Man! You could cure world starvation with that thing. Spunk was flying out of your cock like there was no tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, I walked up and handed him the towel. “Here.”

He took it just as a globule of cum fell from his fingers.

“It’s not that bad, is it?,” I said.

Matt draped the towel over his hands and sunk his face into it, wiping it clean, or at least attempting to, of the semen I had deposited there at his request. He chucked it back at me, which I failed to catch, and it dropped to the floor. Then he looked up at me, as he got up from the floor and sat in his chair, offering his face for inspection. “Is that better? Your cum hasn’t ruined my handsome features forever has it? What do you reckon mate? Can you still see any of your spunk on my face?”

Matt rarely failed to make me laugh. “Oh shit, it is that bad,” I said. “Hang on.” I went to the bathroom and ran a facecloth under the hot tap and returned with it. “Sorry, your hair is, well, has got strings of, you know, in it. There’s strings of sticky, you know, oh shit, semen and there’s still some stuff on your face. Here, you can use this.” I offered him the steaming facecloth. “Sorry …”

Matt didn’t budge and had his arms firmly planted on the armrests. I thrust my arm out further and tried to get him to take the facecloth. He looked up and shook his head. “Mate, can you do it?”

“I suppose so. Are you sure? You could pop into the shower or something if you want. There’s soap in there and everything.”

“Nah. You do it. Use that,” he said, pointing to the facecloth in my outstretched hand. Matt moved his backside forward in the chair and put a pillow behind his back for support. Then he tilted his head back. In his mind, it was a done deal. “I’m ready man. I’m ready for you to make me handsome again.”

I tried to think of something witty to say in reply but I just laughed. I stepped up and stood over him. “Hold still.” I bent over, lowering my eyes closer to his and I manipulated his head to face the light. Then I placed the facecloth on his left cheek and glided it across the centre of his face, across the bridge izmir escort of his nose and his right cheek, mopping up bits of half dried cum. Matt smiled and looked me in the eye.

I placed the facecloth at his right temple and ran it down his jawline and over his stubbled chin, rustling the short, bristly hairs. For the first time I noticed a healed scar stretching about an inch, forward of his right ear, almost hidden by his five o’clock shadow. “Do you like this look?”

“What look man?”

I stopped for a minute and stood upright, putting my hand on his chest. “The unshaven one.”

“Mate, I don’t shave before a game. For three days, at least. Don’t you think it makes me look more rugged or something? You know, like a gladiator.”

I smiled, wanting to laugh but nodding in agreement.

“Did you see that guy today? Man he was scared when he saw me running at him. He virtually ushered me through.”

“Oh yeah. I saw that. You almost scored a try.” I patted his chest, the facecloth in my palm. Then I bent back over and inspected his chin from even closer, sweeping up stray bits of cum from his neck.

“No bugger likes tackling me when I look like this.”


“When I haven’t shaved I mean. Not with a gallon of your spunk on my face. It makes me look mean mate.”

I wiped down his jawline, over that scar. “I’m sure the girls like it too.”

“The chicks? Man! Anyway, it’ll all be gone when I shave in the morning.”

I pricked my ears up. I stood back up, and placed my hand and facecloth back on his chest. “In the morning? Would you like me to give you one? I can give you a shave.”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah, may as well. I’ve got a razor and some shaving foam in the bathroom. It wouldn’t be any trouble. I can do it here, while you’re sitting in the chair. No problem.” I pointed to the bathroom. “I’ll go and get the stuff.”

“Mate, nah don’t. It’s ok. Don’t worry about it. I’ll shave in the morning.”

I smiled apologetically. “Ok.” The room fell silent.

I cleaned up bits of cum from the side of his hair, and watched his heartbeat pulsing in his temple. He breathed peacefully through his nose and would have looked peaceful too, if it wasn’t for the mess. I wiped his forehead and then I noticed another scar, a tiny one, on his brow. Our eyes caught each other. He smiled, which I returned. Then I dabbed at his eyebrows and Matt instinctively closed his eyes.

I looked down, peeping over his lungs as he breathed, towards his groin and his … erection. The zipper of his jeans strained, so much so it was unzipped about an inch. His green undies showed through the gap and so did the impression of the head of his swollen cock, covered by the thin fabric. His bulge twitched and his fly unzipped one more notch. When I looked back at his face, I found Matt watching me, smiling.

That was it. Once it starts there’s no stopping it. My groin tingled. My penis stirred. The pressure intensified as it expanded and pushed out against the weight of the towel around my waist. It started to tent. But it was about to get worse. Much worse. I couldn’t help myself. I stared at the part of Matt’s face which had been so accommodating moments earlier. All of a sudden his lips looked irresistible. Before I knew it, my head was making an advance towards his. Our lips were on a collision course, and it was all in slow motion.

“Oh shit, sorry,” I said, suddenly conscious of what was happening. My head made a rapid retreat. As I walked past Matt’s prone body towards my dresser, I tossed the soaked facecloth onto his groin, making him flinch as though I had just kneed him there. That made him grab at it and sit up.

“Mate? Hey, what are you doing man?”

I took a clean pair of undies from my dresser. I was in danger of running out at this rate. I pulled them up my legs and under the towel with my back to him. Then I grabbed my pants from the bed. “I’m sorry, can you finish that off yourself?,” I said, flustered. “I’m just putting my pants back on.”

“Why? Come on. You haven’t finished cleaning your spunk off yet man.”

“No way. There’s hardly any left. I got most of it. I was getting cold. Don’t you find it chilly in here?”

“Chilly? Mate, it’s not chilly. You’re crazy man.”

It wasn’t until I fastened the button on my pants that I noticed Matt returning from a brief visit to the bathroom, his face clean, and his hair damp. He gathered the cards from the bed and slumped himself into the chair. He shuffled the deck. “Now, where were we?”

“My turn first,” I said. I subtly arranged the bulge in my pants and sat back down in the chair opposite.

As he continued to shuffle he glanced down to where it looked like someone had shoved a baseball down my pants. Then he looked down at his own disarray. He placed the deck of cards on the floor between us and poked his penis back through his fly. Then he lifted up his backside, straightening his pelvis, and he inelegantly pulled up his zipper over his alsancak escort full-on erection. “Mate?,” he said.


“Do you have any lube or something man?”

I giggled weakly.

“KY Jelly, olive oil, lotion? Anything like that’ll do.”

I didn’t answer.

“Man, you must have something. What do you use to wank with?”

I covered my face with my hands. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Don’t you use lube?”

When I removed my hands, I felt my face burning. “No, I don’t have any lube.”

“Bummer.” Matt pointed to the floor. “Take a card then.”

I stood up and grabbed my wallet from my back pocket. I took out a twenty dollar note and offered it to him. “Will this be enough?”

He took the money from me, and dangled it in his hand in front of him. “For what?”

“There’s a supermarket at the end of the street. Go and buy what you need and bring it back.”

Matt folded the money in two and shoved it into his back pocket. “Man, you must be made of money.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yea, can’t you tell? I’m living a life of luxury here. Just buy what we need … and Matt?”


“Bring back the change.”

Matt grinned. He got up, his clothed erection flashing teasingly before my eyes, and he looked over his shoulder as he turned to leave. “Ok mate. Leave it to me.”

“Hang on. Wait! You know what I mean don’t you?”

Matt continued walking but I could hear his muffled laughter. “Yeah mate. I know what you mean. You’re so crazy.”

He obviously did know what I meant. I could tell. It was the way he laughed. He patted his backside over the pocket where he had stashed my money and unlocked the door before his sexy back view disappeared out the doorway as bright streetlights illuminated his speedy exit.

“I’ll wait for you here!” I shouted through the door he had, in his haste, left open. I assumed he could hear me. I got up too and yelled through the doorway. “Try the men’s toiletries aisle.”

Realising what I had said, and how it may have sounded, I instantly scanned the street, left and right. Not another sole in sight, luckily. A car drove past, shining on Matt’s supple body, as he strutted the footpath, a bit like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I pushed the door closed, leaving it unlocked for him. Then I headed for the bathroom, tearing my shirt off my back as I went. I quickly peeled my black pants and underpants down my legs and kicked them into the corner of the bathroom, where they landed on top of my discarded shirt.

I held my outstretched hand under the shower as the needles of lukewarm water ricocheted off in all directions. “Hurry up!” I said impatiently, as if the shower had ears. I stepped in and slid the polyester curtain across the railing. Then I turned to briefly let the warm streams of water cascade down my back, washing away the sticky, drying sweat. I thought about what Matt and I had just done and what we might do when he returned. That’s what kept me aroused, despite having already cum over Matt’s welcoming face. I closed my eyes and fleetingly stroked my hard cock. Then I took a cake of soap from the shelf into my hand. I reached behind my back, rubbing the soap liberally over my arsecheeks, and then between them. I was clean. I had checked.

Showered and clothed, I returned to the comfort of my chair and stared at the front door. Ten minutes later, Matt still hadn’t returned. My shower needn’t have been so hurried. I had time to think, which probably wasn’t a good thing. Was I handsome? Was I cool? I wanted to be both those things when Matt walked in the door and saw me. My penis couldn’t care less. I fidgeted around on the chair, altering my pose and I chose the coolest..

When I saw the cards lying on the floor untidily, where Matt had left them, I had a sudden wicked thought. Should I? I glanced at my front door that Matt could be opening at any moment, and then back at the deck of cards. What the heck? Two can play at that game. I gathered them up and fanned them, face up, in my hand. I extracted one king, and then another. I rummaged through the deck quickly, and then for a second time. There were no more. I gazed up at the door and then laughed to myself. “The bastard!” I should have guessed. He’d done it again. I tossed the deck of cards onto the floor, then I got up and lifted the flattened pillow lying innocently on Matt’s chair. There they were. Two kings. Two bloody kings! The king of spades and the king of hearts. Cheat! He hadn’t even bothered finding a different hiding place.

“Hey man, I got the stuff.”

“Oh shit … what?” So much for that. I can’t have looked handsome or cool.

Matt did though. Evening dew had accumulated on his face. It glistened in the light and gave his short cropped, black hair a healthy sheen. He carried a shopping bag in his hand, his arm slightly bent, making his rugby shirt ride up his beautifully muscled arm, showing off his bicep in a good light. “You know. The stuff. buca escort I got it. What you wanted.”

“Sorry, you startled me. Yeah … the stuff … um good. Thanks Matt.” I was rather sheepish.

On the other hand, Matt sauntered in looking pleased with himself. He sat in his chair and dropped the half full shopping bag on the wooden floor between us.

“A chair fit for a king,” I said sarcastically.

“What mate?”

“Nothing,” I said. Matt didn’t get it. “Did you have a good walk?” I leaned forward and held out my hand expectantly. “Where’s my change?”

“Change?” Matt laughed. “There’s no change mate.”

“No change? What do you mean, no change?”

“I spent it. I spent the whole twenty dollars. Man, a twenty dollar note doesn’t stretch far these days.”

“You’ve got to be joking. What the hell did you buy?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Bugger that. Just give me the the condensed version,” I said tersely.

“Man, don’t be so crazy. Come on Jeff. Smile. I got the stuff. Do you want to see what I bought? You’ll like it. Hang on. I’ll show you.” Matt eagerly reached into the shopping bag and fumbled around. He brought out the items one by one, placing them on the floor, and announcing them. “One tube of peppermint toothpaste.”

I laughed.

“One bottle of green apple scented shampoo.”


“One packet of Gillette razor blade cartridges. And finally, the stuff mate. One tube of KY Jelly lube. What do you think?”

“I want my change. That’s what I think. I was expecting about fifteen bucks. Why did you have to buy toothpaste?”

“Man, you would have too if you were in my position. That chick was hot.”

“What chick?”

“The chick on the checkout till. Have you ever walked up to checkout with just a tube of KY Jelly in your shopping basket? You stick it on the counter and the girl says ‘One tube of personal lubrication. Is that all you want today sir?’, in a really loud voice, or, even worse, over the intercom. Man, that’s embarrassing.”

“Did she actually say that?”

“Well no, not exactly. But she may have. If you just buy lube, it makes it look like you’re going to have sex.”

“Really?” Oh shit, I think that’s precum in my underpants. “You think so?’

“Yea mate. So I had to grab all those other things. I took a whole lot of stuff from the shelves nearby and threw them into the basket. That way it made it look like the lube was just part of my general shopping. There’s more to me just than my good looks you know.”

I tried my best not to laugh. “But I hate apple shampoo and I don’t have a Gillette razor either.”

“Ooops, it’s not my fault. How was I to know? I didn’t know mate. Sorry. Oh well, we’d better make the best of a bad situation. If you don’t want them, I’ll take them off your hands. Stick them over there by the door and I’ll take them with me when I go home.”

“No way. You can have the shampoo and the toothpaste, but I’m keeping the razor blades and the lube. Sorry.”

“Ok mate.” Matt stretched his arms above his head and sighed a nervous type of yawn. “So?”


“What are you going to do with them then?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” he said. “Anyway, you can always use them to shave your hairy arse.”

I giggled inside but looked at him blankly.

He winked, just one eyelid and a squint in the corner. Otherwise, he didn’t move a muscle.

I did my best to keep a straight face. But I suddenly burst out laughing.

Matt grinned, neither of us really knowing what the joke was. His eyes roamed towards my clothed groin. He stared for a few seconds and then looked away.

I shifted a hand and casually rested it over my bulge.

Matt reached down and gathered up the cards from the floor. He shuffled them and then placed them back.

I nodded at them. “Pick a card. It’s your turn to go first.”

He reached down towards them with his hand.

“Yea, go on. Take one,” I said, all smartarsy.

“Ok. If that’s what you want mate.” He took a card and placed it secretively in his cupped hand, without looking at it, and slumped back into the chair. Then he held the card face down against his stomach so I couldn’t see it.

“Well? Aren’t you going to show me? What is it?” I found it difficult to avoid Matt’s rampant bulge too. As I glanced down at it, not for the first time, one notch of the zip of his fly burst open.

“I’m not telling you,” he said.

“You’re not telling me?”

“You take one first. Then I’ll show you.” Matt watched me intently, one hand covering the card, the other at his side, sandwiched between his hip and the armrest. “Are you going to take one? You’re too chicken, are you mate?”

I reached down now and took the next card from the deck before lounging back in the chair. “There. Now show me your card?”

Matt excitedly and suddenly sat forward. Looking me in the eyes, he threw the card onto the floor in front of me, where it landed, face up. “There you go mate. Beat that!”

I looked down at the card and laughed. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

Matt looked down too. He was mortified. “What the fuck!”

“A two?,” I said, smugly.

“A damn two!”

“What’s wrong Matt. Anyone would think you were expecting a king or something.” I grinned.

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