****** Jack the Jock by scat_hole@hotmail.com ******
===============================================================================

Jack the Jock


The year was 1968. I was a sophomore at Red River High school in Red River,
Wyoming. I hated it; I didn't fit in. Athletics reigned supreme at RRHS, with
athletes as the royalty. I sang in the choir.

I had no social life. When the crown princes and princesses of the school
weren't ignoring me, they were teasing me mercilessly.

I was having a bad day. I'd dropped my notebook in the hall before my first
class, scattering my papers all over. Instead of helping me gather them, the
jerks at RRHS thought it was funny to kick papers all over, laughing as I
scrambled to retrieve them. We had a pop quiz during second period. As I
gathered my homework for history to turn it in, I realized that I was missing
page two. It was probably a victim of the hall fiasco.

I had study hall fourth period. Once roll had been taken, I grabbed the
bathroom pass and took a walk. I frequently walked around the school yard. It
cleared my head.When I rounded the corner behind the building, I ran smack into
Jack Schlager, a senior jock and one of my biggest tormentors. He was crying.

"What's wrong, Jack?" I asked

"That fucking bitch, Schliker," he hissed. "I told her I needed to go to the
bathroom, but would she let me go. No!"

It was at that moment that I saw his problem. The front and inside legs of his
jeans were a dark blue, starkly contrasting the faded blue of the rest. The
great Jack Schlager had pissed his pants.

"Ya gotta help me, man. No one can see me like this," he begged.

"Come on, then. My house is just a block away."

We ran across the school yard and ducked into the alley that led to my house.
There was something funny about the way Jack ran. When I got close to him, I
got a whiff of his problem. Studly Jack Schlager hadn't just pissed his pants.
He'd shit them, too.

Fortunately, Mom had gone shopping that day, so the house was deserted. I
directed Jack downstairs to my room.

"Go ahead and strip. I'll throw your stuff in the washer," I instructed.

"Will you untie my shoes?" he asked.

"Why," I asked. "Just sit on that chair and do it yourself."

"I can't sit down. It'll make a mess," he pleaded.

"It's a wooden chair. A little piss won't hurt it," I egged him on.

"It's not the piss," he begged.

"What is it, Jack. What will make a mess?" I taunted.

"Please. Don't make me say it."

"Say what, Jack?"

"I shit my pants," Jack sobbed.

I walked over to him and unbuckled his belt. I released the brass button on his
jeans and slid the zipped down. Then, I hooked my fingers in the waist band and
slid his jeans down to his ankles.

"Turn around," I commanded.

Jack slowly revolved, revealing the extent of his problem. The cotton of his
Jockeys was stretched tight. A large bulge nestled between his ass cheeks, and
the cotton over the lump was turning brown. Jack stood and quietly sobbed, so
total was his humiliation. Oddly, I felt my cock begin to stir and swell as I
gazed at the mass and inhaled the raunchy aroma.

"You know, Jack, you usually aren't very nice to me," I said. "As a matter of
fact, you and your friends have made me feel like shit on more than one
occasion. Just why should I help you now?"

"Please, man. You gotta help me. I couldn't live here if this got out," he
begged. "I'll do anything you say. Just help me."

Thoughts of revenge gave way to Jack's pathetic whimper. I knelt in front of
him and untied his shoes and helped him step out of his pants. I hooked my
fingers on the waistband of his Jockeys and began to carefully lower them,
trying to keep the shit from smearing his legs. It wasn't until he had stepped
out of the shitty shorts that I looked up and realized that my face was just
inches from his cock. Instead of the assault weapon of an athletic stud, I
faced a three inch pencil-dick.

"I'll get a wash rag," I said as I jumped up. I had to get away to keep from
laughing. I soaked the rag in warm water and returned to Jack, who still stood
with the shorts by his feet.

"Put your elbows on the vanity and I'll clean you up," I said.

He moved to the vanity and bent over. He spread his legs, revealing the
prettiest pair of ass cheeks I'd ever seen. The streaks and smears of shit only
accentuated them. At the center, a marble -sized turd clung to his ass pucker
like a cherry on a sundae.

I still can scarcely believe what I did next. I dropped to my knees and stuck
my face in Jack's crack. My tongue flicked the tiny piece of shit into my
mouth, and then began a total assault on his hole. As my tongue tried to force
its way into his deep recesses, the pucker strained out to meet it.

Suddenly, Jack grunted, and a six inch shit log shot out of his asshole and
into my mouth. Instead of being repulsed, I found myself hornier than I'd ever
been. My cock had swollen to full staff and strained at my pants.

Jack stood up and turned around. His cock had grown to nearly four inches and
jutted straight out from his dark mass of curly pubic hair.

"Suck me, man. Please!" he begged.

"First things first," I said after I removed the turd from my mouth. "You
aren't the only guy here with a hard on. Get it out of my pants."

Jacks hands trembled as he fumbled with my zipper. He dropped my pants to the
floor and returned to my shorts. His hand tentatively brushed the swell of my
cock through the cotton. He gripped the elastic and tugged causing my eight-
inch cock to spring into view.

"Holy shit! That thing's huge," he exclaimed.

I took the piece of shit that I held in my hand and began to massage it into
the smooth skin of my erect cock. I loved the feel as the shit oozed between my
fingers. I kept up until my cock was completely coated with shit.

"Suck me," I commanded.

"I ain't no queer," Jack responded.

"You are a pants-shitting pencil dick, though. I'm sure the school would love
to know that," I retorted. "Now, suck!"

"That's fucking blackmail," he said, but I noticed that his cock was still
swollen.

Jack dropped to his knees, but refused to open his mouth. I pushed my dick to
his lips; he kept his lips sealed. I pummelled his face with my fuck-stick;
shit smeared all over his face. Suddenly, he groaned, opened his mouth and
swallowed my entire shit-covered cock clear to the pubic bone. The sensation of
a throat gripping my cock head proved too much for me. I began to spew sperm
with the force of a volcano. I stopped counting after the eighth squirt.

Once the climax finally ceased, Jack stood up and stared me in the face. A
smile beamed through the shit smears.

"Okay, so maybe I am a fucking queer - and a shit-eating one at that. So...now
will you suck my cock?" he said through his grin.

Now tell me, who could refuse a deal like that?

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