7 comments/ 135375 views/ 34 favorites Secrets of a High School Jock By: Darksider Trent Baker made sure no one was watching before he stepped out of the sunny fall afternoon and into the public restroom in the corner of Shady Grove Park. The cement structure, situated behind a concealing copse of elm trees out of the way of the more heavily trafficked areas of the park, was dimly lit compared to the perfect outside weather. It smelled faintly unpleasant, owing to the fact that the facility wasn't cleaned, or looked after, very frequently or carefully. Trent, who had on a Rabid Wolverine hoodie despite the pleasant weather, pulled the hood back off his head and unzipped it to reveal a matching practice jersey underneath. The Rabid Wolverines were Meadville High's football team, and Trent Baker was the star wide-receiver that had been instrumental in taking the team to the state championship for the past two years. The 18-year-old senior was on his way to taking the team to a third. Trent bent over and eyed under the row of toilet stalls to discover that they were all empty. He was alone. He straightened back up, catching a glimpse of his handsome, square jawed and masculine features in the grimy mirror above the row of sinks. He wiped a few beads of sweat off the brow of his shortly cropped blond-haired head and moved to the very last stall in the restroom. He swung open the door with a loud creak, stepped inside and slammed it behind him, engaging the lock. Slinging his gym bag off his shoulder and depositing it in the far corner of the stall, up against the cement wall, Trent eyed the unwashed toilet seat. Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, he gave the seat a wipe before sitting down and breathing a sigh, not pulling down his navy blue gym pants. Abruptly, the silence was broken by the sound of Angels and Airwave's "The War." The inspirational jock-rock song emanated from the gym bag beside Trent. Frantically, he reached inside it, pulled out a cell phone, and flipped it open, answering in a cool-macho-guy voice. "Yeah, babe?" It was Shannon, Trent's girlfriend, the captain of the squad that cheered Trent and the Rabid Wolverines to victory on Friday nights. "Bay-bee! Where are you? Practice ended twenty minutes ago!" She cooed from the other line. "Uhh- Well I was almost to your house when I realized I forgot my science book! I'm on my way back to pick it up so I can finish that lab report tonight!" He had found it easier and easier to lie convincingly. "Well hurry up! I'm horny and my mom will be home soon!" She pouted, playfully. "Ooooo... I'll haul ass, big time!" "You better! But be careful! The whole season'd be blown without my hunk-of-Trent!" the 18-year-old cheerleader teased. "Okay, see you soon babe!" He hung up, quickly fiddled with the phone to put it on silent, and tossed it back into his bag. Resting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes, he thought about what he was doing in the men's bathroom in the far corner of Shady Grove Park. It wasn't the first time. For a few months now, Trent had been sneaking off by himself periodically. Not on any sort of schedule, not more than once every few weeks. The park was twenty minutes away from the High School, in the opposite direction from his house and the neighborhood. Raising his face up out of his hands, turning his head to his right, he looked at the hole cut into the side of the stall, leading into the adjacent compartment. The hole was at face level to Trent as he sat at the toilet. It was the perfect size for a cock. Around the hole and everywhere on the stall walls were written crude, profane and obscene remarks. Just above the hole were two large arrows drawn in black marker, the words "SUCK HERE" scrawled above them. Trent knew from investigation that in the stall next to him, above the same hole was written "INSERT COCK HERE." For the thousandth time since Trent's discovery of this place, he wondered to himself what he was doing here. He was an athletic, attractive, successful, outgoing, STRAIGHT teen. He knew it. Hell Shannon, and a good many other girls at Meadville High knew it too. So why the strange, disturbing desire for the male body? Why, over his high school years, did Trent find it harder and harder not to stare at his teammates in the locker room; in the showers? Their broad shoulders, pink nipples, rippled abs, tight asses... their swinging cocks. Shaking his head in disgust at his thoughts, getting a half-wood in his jockeys at the same time, Trent almost stood up to flee from the bathroom. He froze as he heard foot falls on the concrete floor, entering the restroom. The star athlete held his breath, listened as the footsteps approached, as the stall door beside him creaked open and slammed shut, as someone shuffled into the stall on the other side of the wall. There was a long moment of silence, some heavy breathing on the other side. Trent was sweating not unlike he had just sweat on the field during practice, in spite of the fact that the dim bathroom was cool, and he'd done this all before. In his head, he found himself wishing simultaneously that the guy on the other end would just go to the bathroom and leave, and that he'd soon be filling the crudely fashioned hole in the wall with his man-meat at the same time. Such were the contradictory thoughts that ran through his mind during his homo-erotic cravings. The quiet was shattered by a deliberate series of knocks from the other side. Three short raps on the stall partition. Trent caught his breath again, hesitated, then brought his own knuckles up to heavily vandalized wooden partition and knocked three times back. From the other side there was a grunt and the sound of a fly being unzipped. Trent sat with his eyes transfixed on the hole in the wall. He realized his lips were abnormally moist, that he was practically drooling, that he had forgotten to swallow. He licked his lips and swallowed the excess saliva. Some shuffling from the other side, and then Trent's eyes were going wide as the object of his unnatural and unsettling desire came gliding through the hole with barely enough room to fit. A thick, swollen purple headed cock. The cock kept coming through the hole until it was accompanied by a few brown pubic hairs as the man's pelvis hit the other side of the wall. Trent thanked silently yet again that the wood partitions went up especially high between the stalls, leaving only about a foot between the top of the stall walls and the ceiling. Any shorter and the man on the other end would be able to peak over, maybe recognize the high school football player. Trent's life would be ruined in a flash. He was brought out of these thoughts as the guy on the other end cleared his throat. His mind half telling him no, that there was everything in the world wrong with what he was about to do, Trent reached out and wrapped his hand around the fat tip of the penis. Squeezing the head gently, he stroked downwards until his fist met the wall, then slowly back up; feeling every inch of the warm dick in his hand. He jerked the cock up and down, every other thought pushed out of his mind, only vaguely aware of the aching hard on already pressing against the jockeys in his pants. He was startled out of the trance as the guy on the other end spoke, his voice deeper and more macho-sounding than Trent's own, perhaps purposely concealing. "C'mon fairy, I don't got all day. Just suck it already." Trent felt a pang of embarrassment that his stroking efforts weren't doing it for the man on the other end. He wasn't too upset however, because his mouth was practically dripping at the thought of filling it with the man's dick. Squirming off the toilet and down onto his knees despite the grimy floor, Trent stared down the barrel off the cock, inches from his face. He opened his mouth wide, brought his head down, and closed his moist lips around the cock head. Savoring the taste, the warmth, the softness, Trent let his tongue swirl around the mushroom tip, flicked it over the sensitive area on the underside of the cock just below the head. The Man on the other end grunted. "That's right faggot, suck that shit..." Encouraged when he should have been irate at the bashing, Trent brought his hand back up around the base of the cock, stroked upwards as he brought his head downward, bringing the cock into his mouth. Trent went to work like this, twisting his fist gently as he brought it upwards, twisting his head slightly as he brought his mouth down, keeping his mouth as wet and inviting as possible. The guy on the other side sighed and groaned, breathlessly whispered the occasional "fuck" or "shiiit yeah." Trent's mouth eagerly took care of the top half of the cock, while his hand took care of the lower half. The man on the other end spoke up again, "Fuck! You pussy-faggot! Get rid of the hand and take it down like a real cock-slut." Trent didn't hesitate for a moment, no longer thinking, he took away his hand and recklessly pushed his mouth down on the cock. Before his face made it to the wall and the cock made it all the way in, it reached his throat and Trent thought he was going to gag. He pulled back a bit, heard a harsh laugh from the other end, and doubled his effort, pushing his head forwarding and taking the dick down his throat until his nose pressed against the graffiti covered wall. The man on the other side grunted is approval as Trent held himself there, cock down his throat as long as he could, unable to breath, eyes beginning to water. Then the Man on the other end was pulling out, back through the hole. Trent got a breath of stale bathroom air through his nose just as he thought the man would pull the cock out of his mouth completely and back through the hole in the wall. Then it was pushing back into his mouth, past his tonsils and to the back of his throat again. Trent, calling on all the grit and fortitude he'd used on the field, held his face up against the wall as the man pulled his cock back and forth through the hole, harder and faster each time, each time reaching the back of Trent's throat, squeezing tears from his eyes and gooey snot from Trent's nose. The wide-receiver fought to get a quick breath each time the fat cock slipped out of his throat. From the other end, the man was grunting and groaning louder and faster to go along with his pumps in and out of Trent's mouth. Between guttural groans he had taken to whispering hoarsely "fuck yeah, faggot!" repeatedly. The words encouraged and fueled Trent, and he didn't even notice that his own hand had fallen to his crotch, that he was rubbing it frantically over the bulge in his pants. The man's thrusts through the hole and into Trent's mouth had become so forceful that his hips slammed into the wall on the other end, shaking the partition. As it reached a frantic pitch and Trent realized he was no longer able to get any breaths between thrusts, the man forcefully jammed his pelvis against the wall, froze with his dick at the back of Trent's throat, and began to splirt glob after glob of thick cum down Trent's throat. Trent swallowed as much as he could, but nonetheless still more oozed out around the man's cock and down Trent's square chin. Finally the cum-onslaught ended, and the cock popped out of Trent's mouth with a wet slurp and disappeared through the hole. Trent leaned backwards, sitting on his own heels and realized that in the fervor of it all, he had blown a huge load of his own inside his jockeys. A wet spot was already forming in the crotch of his pants. He sat transfixed like that as he heard the man on the other end grabbing toilet paper, shuffling about a bit, and then flushing the toilet. The stall opened, and the man left quietly, all out of gay-bashing remarks. He was probably embarrassed and ashamed at what had taken place- not nearly as ashamed and embarrassed as Trent felt, however. Eyes blurry, cheeks crusted with dried tears, nostrils and mouth joined by a mix of snot, saliva and semen, cum dripping down his chin, pants and underwear soiled with his own seed, Trent sighed and cursed himself inwardly. Then he was compelled by the need to quickly clean-up any evidence of the dirty misdeed via a towel in his gym bag. He changed his pants and underwear, and hurried out of the stall. Washing his hands and splashing his face with water at the sink, he made it a point this time not to look at his handsome reflection in the mirror. He zipped the hoodie, pulled up the hood, and left the bathroom. Thankfully there was no one outside; the man in the other stall had gone. As Trent walked to his truck- parked a few streets away from the park- he was already feeling better. He no longer hated himself; that feeling seemed to fade quicker and quicker after each deed. As he got behind the wheel of the truck, what he mostly felt was frustration. His ideal male encounter was not in a dirty restroom, through a glory hole, sucking off a complete stranger. Circumstances forced Trent to go that route. What he really wanted was an attractive young guy from school, any one of his teammates would satisfy him. The problem was, he knew that even if he could find a willing participant on the team- which he thought unlikely- word would get out fast. What Trent needed was someone off the team, someone of lower stature among the social hierarchy of Meadville high. Someone he could be sure to control. Trent was always on the look-out for just such a guy. But every band geek, every A.V. club member and every social outcast didn't appeal to Trent physically. All the attractive guys were popular and dating like Trent. There was no way to sniff one out and be sure they wouldn't announce a pass at them by the star wide-receiver to the school. Indeed Trent was stuck between a rock and a hard place. The out-of-the-way rest-room in Shady Grove Park was the only place he could keep his dirty secret safe. As he pulled away from Shady Grove Park that sunny fall afternoon, the fact that he really had forgotten his science book at school was the furthest thing from his mind. He had a girlfriend to go satisfy, dirty laundry to be cleaned, and a dirty desire to keep a secret. He had no idea that the forgotten lab-report would be exactly how he'd end up finding Joey. Secrets of a High School Jock Ch. 02 What had once been one of Trent Baker's favorite parts of the day had become something to loathe; hitting the showers after football practice. It wasn't that he'd suddenly lost his secret interest in all the hard bodies of his fellow teammates showering and changing all around him. In fact, it was the exact opposite. The desire had intensified. Trent had come to realize the feelings that brought a stir in his eighteen-year-old testicles had increased in direct proportion with his lack of an outlet for the urges. He used to handle that by sporadic visits to the out-of-the-way restroom some miles out of town in the corner of Shady Grove Park. It was there that he would go to anonymously give blow-jobs through a glory hole between two of the bathroom stalls. Despite the feeling of disgust with himself that he'd always experience after the deed, it was enough to hold him over and keep his homo-erotic desires from surfacing at school. The last thing he wanted was his teammates to know, or his girlfriend Shannon, the head of the cheerleading squad. But Trent hadn't been to Shady Grove Park since the middle of September. It was now the end of October and the Meadville High Rabid Wolverine's winning season was coming to an end, thanks in no small part to Trent, the star wide-receiver. 'And you can't go back there.' Trent thought to himself as he continued to aim his face up into the massaging stream of steamy shower water. He began to recall in his mind just exactly why he couldn't go back there, when he felt a shove on the shoulder and opened his eyes. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Tyrone, the running back, standing behind him. A white towel was secured around his teammate's toned mid-section. "Yo Baker, you gonna stand under the shower all day or you coming with us to Denny's?" Realizing that he had zoned out in thought, and becoming embarrassingly aware that the trail his thoughts had led him down had begun to coax his dick into a hard-on, Trent hoped Tyrone would chalk his reddening face up as a result of the hot shower water. Trent continued to look over his shoulder, not daring to turn around and risk Tyrone seeing his boner. "Oh- Nah man I have to go see Mrs. Turner." He tried to sound as cool and casual as possible. Tyrone was already heading out of the group shower room and back towards the locker room, shouting over his shoulder. "Dog you better not be failing physics! We need you in the playoffs!" Trent's mind raced to think of something cool and reassuring to say back, but all he could think about was how as a result of failing to turn in a lab report last month, he may in fact BE failing physics, and thus not be allowed to compete in the post-season. Tyrone was off getting dressed to leave with the rest of the team before Trent could think of anything to say in reply. Trent turned his face back towards the pounding water for a few more moments, giving the team enough time to clear out of the locker room before he headed out to change. All the while his mind drifted back for the hundredth time in the past month, to his last clandestine visit to the secluded restroom at Shady Grove Park. --- It was just two days since the last time Trent had gone straight from practice to the rest room and blown a random stranger through the hole between the stalls. He usually waited at least a week. However, he was getting less and less satisfaction from fucking Shannon regularly, and needed another release. He got in the last stall like he always did and waited only a few minutes before someone else came into the bathroom. As always two different parts of him battled in his head. One part hoped whoever it was had for some reason stopped in this well out of the way bathroom just to take a leak. The other part of him craved for the person to get into the stall next to him, knock purposefully three times on the partition, and Trent would be able to anonymously suck another man off. The three knocks came, and Trent hesitated just a moment before knocking back three times. He heard no zipper coming down or pants shuffling to the grimy concrete floor. Instead whoever had gone into the adjacent stall immediately exited it, and pounded hard twice on the door of Trent's own stall. Trent would never forget the next thing he heard, and the pounding in his heart that followed. "This is the Police, open the door and put your hands where I can see them!" Mind racing, Trent could think of no other way out than opening the door, all the while dreading what this most probably meant for his life from this point on. He unlatched to door and swung it open, immediately putting his hands up. On the other end a uniformed officer, hand on the gun at his belt stared back at him. Not only that, but Trent recognized the handsome officer, because he was the father of a junior varsity member of the Meadville High football team. The officer recognized Trent also, and proceeded to inform him how much trouble he could be in. --- As Trent toweled off and dressed in the empty High School locker room, he remembered the exact words of Officer Ramsey back in September. --- "So you some sort of queer or something? I bet you got the hots for my son too! I bet you get all hot and bothered watching the boys get changed in the locker room! You make me sick!" "Sir please-I- Please don't..." Trent tried to defend himself but couldn't find a way to form complete sentences, and the officer kept interrupting him. "Not only should I take you to the station, but I should expose you to the community, the school, and the team for what you are!" Trent truly believed on that day, that he would have a heart attack at the tender age of 18. All he could get out was a meek "Sir- please don't..." The officer didn't seem to be listening as he reached for his handcuffs. The next thing Trent knew he was being told to turn around, and Officer Ramsey was putting pressure on the back of his knee to get Trent down onto the floor of the stall. With a hand on the back of his neck, the officer was pushing Trent forward towards the toilet. With his other hand, he tightly secured a cuff around Trent's wrist. Before he was sure what was happening, Trent was on all fours in front of the grimy toilet, his hands cuffed around the back of the bowl. "Sir- I don't understand..." "Shut up boy!!!" The officer shouted, and Trent half expected to be kicked from behind. Instead he felt the officer's hands at his waist, reaching around to the front of his jeans. "I- I don't have any weapons I swear..." "I said SHUT UP!" The officer's fingers found Trent's belt, roughly undid it, and then quickly went to work on the button and fly of his jeans. Trent's mind swirled as he strained to keep his head up out of the bowl of the toilet. The officer pulled Trent's pants and jockey shorts down to his knees and then Trent listened, unable to turn around far enough to see what was going on, as the officer apparently worked on his own belt and zipper. "What are you-" Trent's frantic question was cut off by a stiff, air stealing kick to the ribs. "You best shut the fuck up son, before you have a serious injury you have to explain to the coach!" Trent listened while the officer got down on the ground behind him; felt him looming over him from behind. Felt his breath on his neck. "You should like this, queer boy..." Trent listened to the officer spit, and heard a wet slurp sound as the officer's wetted palm met another part of his anatomy. The cop spit into his palm again, and this time Trent jumped as a cold hand touched his ass cheeks and pulled them apart while another slick hand wiped up and down his puckered anus. --- Fully dressed now, Trent shut his locker and slung his book bag over his shoulders. He shifted the boner in his jeans so it wasn't noticeable before leaving the locker room and heading back towards the school for his meeting with Mrs. Turner, his physics teacher. On the walk, his mind returned back to his final trip to the Shady Grove Park rest room, where Officer Peter Ramsey prepared to enter Trent's virgin asshole from behind. --- It started with a lot of pressure as the cop pushed his spit-wetted cock head against Trent's tight hole. "You better be all clean in there faggot." Ramsey grunted. Trent was too shocked to speak, and was convinced by the pressure he felt outside his asshole, that however big the officer's unseen cock was, it wasn't going to fit. Just as the head began to press onward and inward, Trent was met with searing pain and the urge to push the invading cock out. The pushing motion served to open himself up, inviting the spit-slick cock to slide further in. Trent fought the urge to scream. "Wow you are tight. This your first time taking it up the ass boy? Do you like it?" The cock reached around and grabbed hold of Trent's flaccid dick and balls and jiggled them in his hand. "Does it make you want to get hard you fag?" Despite the pain and terror, Trent did in fact feel a stirring in his balls. The officer pushed in further until Trent felt the cop's pelvis press into his own bare ass cheeks. Trent felt full, pained, and excited simultaneously. The officer's rigid cock was pressing against his insides, stimulating some mysterious part of Trent's body that sent pleasure coursing directly to his own manhood in an entirely new way. The officer began slowly pumping his hips. The pumps became faster and rhythmic, with each pump the pain subsided and the pleasure grew within Trent's loins. He felt the breath again on the back of his neck. "That's right take my cock you little bitch. They should take you off the football team and put you on the cheerleading squad... I bet you take cock better than that slut girlfriend of yours." Trent was too dazed with new feelings of perverse pleasure to be angered by the words. They in fact on many levels further turned him on. Despite not being able to touch his own penis, he felt it grow into a semi-hard state as it bounced around off the inside of his thighs and off the porcelain of the toilet in front of him. Officer Ramsey's ball slapped off of Trent's ass each time he forcefully buried his cock into the football player's hole. Both that and the sound of his pelvis slapping off Trent's ass cheeks reverberated off the concrete walls of the bathroom. Trent turned his head sideways and let his cheek rest down on the seat of the toilet and let out a soft moan as his first fucking grew to a fevered pitch. "Oh yeah, moan like a slut-bitch! Uh-Uh-Uh!" The officer's big, strong hands squeezed painfully tight on both of Trent's hips as he railed himself into the wide-receiver. With each forceful hump into his ass, Trent could feel a sensation building within his groin. He sensed with just a slight touch to his own cock, he would explode into an orgasm the likes of which he'd never experienced before, but Officer Ramsey was paying no attention to Trent's cock. Perhaps, to his astonishment, Trent thought he might cum without touching his dick at all. And then the cop's body pressed into Trent's own, and his cock buried deeper in the athlete's ass than ever, and Ramsey was grunting into his ear. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," over and over again. And indeed he was cumming up inside Trent's anal canal. Trent actually felt each warm squirt hit the walls of his insides and fill him up even further. As Officer Ramsey's cock twitched inside of Trent, the orgasm slowly subsided and for a moment the cop went lose on top of him. As cum oozed out from his stuffed ass and dripped to the concrete floor, Trent realized how close he himself was to spontaneously cumming all over the porcelain in front of him. Then with one final jolt of pleasure Ramsey pulled his cock out from Trent's ass completely and stood up. Trent was left there on the precipice of an amazing orgasm, unfulfilled as the police officer pulled up his pants and zippered up. Trent's stiff member began to soften. Finally the cop bent over and reached around behind the toilet to uncuff Trent. Trent rolled around and sat leaning against the toilet, panting and sweaty, his pants and jockey's still around his knees looking up at Officer Ramsey, who now had trouble maintaining eye contact. "Your secret is safe with me son... but I better not catch you out here anymore, you hear? ... And- and stay away from my boy..." The officer looked directly at Trent long enough to see him nod in agreement and then looked away as he quickly made his exit from the bathroom. --- Trent came down the empty hallway towards his physics classroom and again shifted the boner in his pants to make it less noticeable, pushing all thoughts of why he could no longer go to the Shady Grove bathroom to release his secret sexual urges out of his mind. As well as thoughts of the near-missed incredible orgasm he had experienced during his first and only anal sex act. He stepped into the classroom to find Mrs. Turner talking to another student. He was a boyishly handsome dark haired kid who seemed to have trouble keeping eye-contact with Mrs. Turner even as they carried on a conversation. They both looked up as Trent entered the room, Trent had the feeling that he'd seen the guy before. "Ah, Mr. Baker. I was just talking to Joey here about being your tutor." That was it! Joey. A shy kid that had been in a number of Trent's classes over the years, including the physics class that Trent was currently failing. Odd how Trent never noticed how cute the kid was, or notice him much at all for that matter. Trent stepped forward and offered a hand out to Joey. "Hey Joey, I'm Trent Baker..." The kid looked down at Trent's hand and then kept his eyes there as he shook it meekly, rather than make eye contact with Trent. "Joey Benson." Dirty thoughts already began to swirl in Trent Baker's mind.