Pipe Crew, Part III

I was right. Feeling Rusty’s cock pumping into my ass felt good. Really good. I didn’t know how it was making me feel like that, but having his cock rubbing my tender prostate was sending good vibrations all through my young body. I was laying on my back while he knelt between my legs. I had my thighs wrapped around his waist and my heels digging into his back, trying to get him deeper into my ass. Each stroke made me feel both increased pleasure and pain as my cock strained with excitement. His pumps inflated my own tool. If this is how girls feel when they get fucked, I can see why they like it so much.

Rusty didn’t last long. Fifteen or twenty deep strokes and he blasted my colon with his second cum of the night. Then he collapsed on me, his hot, heavy breath on my neck. I felt his tongue flick my neck and my ass contracted around his cock. I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea if there was etiquette involved. Was I his boyfriend now? Was I gay? Our stomachs trapped my hard cock between us and I relished the tightness and the pressure.

“That was fucking awesome Pauly! Fucking AWESOME!” he exhalted as he withdrew. “I guess it’s your turn now.” He laid back and spread his legs, slowly fondling his diminished cock and half-empty balls. “You ready for this?”

Suddenly, I wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to have sex and I thought Rusty was a pretty hot guy, but I wanted my first time to be with a girl. I would love to fuck Rusty second or third, but my first time needed to be with someone of the opposite sex.

“I don’t know Rusty. You know?” He looked at me kind of funny and then grinned.

“Don’t worry Pauly, we ain’t fags or nothing. We are just a couple of buds helping each other out. If you want, I can suck your dick again and then we can go to sleep.” I nodded and he did. Then we went to sleep in the loft, with the cool end of summer breeze washing away the stench of our passion.

The next morning we went about our business like nothing had happened. I didn’t look at him for fear I’d catch him staring at me funny and making me feel weird for sucking his dick and letting him fuck me. We made it through the last two regular days of work before school started without either of us acting differently than the rest of the summer. It took those two days before the tingling in my ass went away. As the tingling faded, I started to miss it. If Rusty wanted to do it again, I was sure I’d let him.

My first day of high school was like a day out of a movie. I rode the bus from the country to the school and when I got there, it was the biggest school I had ever seen. I was packing a lunch, just like I was going to work, and carrying a new backpack full of school supplies. Centerville High is three stories tall and about a million years old. I think Moses used to teach there. There were eight hundred students in the four grades and each had a primary floor where their lockers were. Except the seniors. Behind the original Centerville High School, there were two long wings that led on one side to the gyms, locker rooms, auditorium and swimming pool. On the other side to the wing housed the cafeteria, home-ec, ag department, welding and trades, auto shop, A/V, journalism and yearbook. The senior lockers were strung down those two long corridors. At the far end, the big gym connected the two sides, making a central courtyard where the seniors liked to hang out.
I wasn’t the only kid lost in that maze on my first day. All of the teachers stood outside their classrooms and helped us fresh fish find our way around. A bookish little girl who had ridden into town on my bus had the locker next to mine. She took pity on me as I struggled correctly work the combination to open my locker

“Hey. Need help?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I’ve never opened a locker before,” I admitted a little obviously.

“You must have gone to Roosevelt last year,” she said with certainty. I looked at her puzzled. How could she know that? “Roosevelt doesn’t have lockers with locks. My cousin went there. Krissy Schultz. I’m Katie Schultz.”

“Yeah, I know Krissy,” I smiled as I replied. “She’s cool.” She was more than cool. She was hot. She was the eighth grade version of Jessica Simpson. Curvy blonde and unavailable. Rumor had it she was going out with a college guy.

“Yeah she’s cool,” my savior admitted. “She’s every boy’s wet dream.” She seemed envious when she said that.

“Hey!” I objected. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short. Krissy’s got nothing on you. You aren’t hard to look at either.” Katie blushed and flung my locker open.

“I gotta run. See you later.” She started to melt into the passing throng of freshmen.

“Hey Katie! My name is Paul David. It’s nice to meet you!” I yelled at her back before she got away. She turned and smiled.

“I know who you are.” What did that mean? How did she know who I was?

The morning was a blur. English, Typing, Algebra 1, Biology 1 and then lunch. Every teacher gave the same speech about doing homework and getting it turned in on time. Every day late was a letter grade off. Blah blah blah. When it was finally my lunch period, I went back to my locker and retrieved my lunch pail and thermos of lemonade and started for the cafeteria with the rest of the herd. On the way, I heard some comments about my style of dress and my workman’s lunch bucket. I began to feel a little out of place until I got to the senior hall.

“Hey, look at Farmer Joe with his lunchbox!” shouted one senior with a full beard. To my thirteen year old eyes, he looked to be 25 years old. I just kept walking.

“Where’s Farmer Joe and his lunch box?” I heard another voice shout. A familiar voice. I turned my head and confirmed it was Jack Baldwin. “You got some of your mom’s great sandwiches in there?” I nodded. “Good, come with us. I could use a nice sandwich.” I was so grateful he could eat my entire lunch if he wanted. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and we walked down the corridor like old friends. We picked up Joe and James as we strolled and all entered the giant cafeteria together.

“Hey Jack! Is that another Baldwin? I didn’t know you had another brother,” purred a kitten in a tight sweater and short skirt.

“Nah, Barb. He’s our cousin. From Sweden. His name is Bjorn Thorhammer! Cuz he’s got the Hammer of Thor packed in those jeans.” The Baldwins laughed and Barb blushed, but she did take a long look at my crotch and put one finger in between her lips. I just kept walking before I did anything embarrassing like spring a boner with her watching. We made our way to the center of the cafeteria where a long table with only a handful of older kids sat. Rusty, Tater and Spud were sitting there along with a couple of guys I had met at the pickup football game. I could feel other eyes on us. I began to feel out of place. I looked around for where the freshmen were supposed to sit. I was way out of my depth. Most of the guys at the table sported letter jackets. Yeah, I was waay out of my depth.

Some of the guys looked at me odd when I put my lunchbox on the table and opened it up. I pulled out a chicken fried steak sandwich wrapped in wax paper and opened it up. Everyone else had trays of cafeteria food. There was a tiny serving of over-cooked schlock with a side of whatever. Their eyes went from their industrial waste to my home-made sandwiches. Suddenly I felt sorry for them and not for myself. I passed a sandwich over to Jack and he attacked it with gusto. I passed one to Rusty and kept the third for myself. Rusty got a kick out of having people taste the strong, sour lemonade I favor. All of the Pipe Crew got a kick out of watching their faces cave in. I chugged strait from the thermos, enjoying the sour. I had six homemade chocolate chip cookies and passed them out among my crew as well.

“I’m gonna start bringing my lunch from now on,” said one of the seniors I had just met. “Pauly has the right idea. This stuff is shit.” A lot of head nodded in agreement. After lunch they drug me out into the senior courtyard and over the jock area. I was just standing there taking some jibes when an older man with a ball cap, t shirt, gray gym shorts and a whistle came strolling over.

“Hey Coach!” shouted Jack Baldwin, clearly pleased to see his head football coach. “This is the freshman I was talking about. Paul David. Pauly, meet Coach Kennedy. He’s the coach of this year’s state champion Centerville High Warriors.” Coach shook his head.

“I hope you are ready to back up that bold prediction Baldwin. Grant and Sheldon High might have some other plans.” I could tell they had a camaraderie brought about by hard work and athletic success.

“Here’s your new secret weapon,” Jack declared. “Pauly is faster than a cheetah and turns better than a jack rabbit.” Coach looked at me skeptically. I couldn’t believe how Jack was building me up. I didn’t understand why.

“Don’t worry Coach, he’ll catch anything I throw at him and no one can catch him. Not even Bobby over there.” He nodded at one of the boys I had outrun for my lone touchdown just a couple of weeks before.

“Don’t tell him all that Jack. Those guys let me score. They weren’t running that hard.” The Baldwins let out a hearty laugh.

“Who told you that? Bobby is the fastest kid in the county and you walked him down like you were strolling on the beach. You got wheels bud. Serious speed.”

“Well,” said Coach Kennedy said skeptically. “We’ll see.” Tryouts for freshmen are tomorrow at 3:30. If you want to play football for the Warriors, stop by the main office and get a form for your parents to fill out. You can’t try out without it. Got it? Good.” Coach Kennedy left us right before the bell rang and I took off to finish the rest of my classes.

On the bus ride home, I caught Katie Schultz’s eye and slid over so she could sit down next to me. We had a great conversation and I found out how much easier it is to talk to girls after you have a good day at school.

“Katie, can I ask you something and you not think I am weird?” She smiled and nodded. “Do you think I dress strange?”

“No, I like the way you dress. All the girls do. Your jeans fit you just right and that t-shirt is just tight enough. Did someone say something?” I didn’t answer but she could tell someone had. “They are just jealous. You are a hottie.” Now it was my turn to blush. “You are. And it’s so cute you don’t know it and act all stuck on yourself like some guys.” Just the sound of her voice made me melt. Crush.

When I got home I did chores around the house until my dad got off work.

“Dad, the football coach asked me if I wanted to play football. I brought home a permission slip.”

“Coach Kennedy asked YOU if you wanted to play football?”

“Yes sir. Jack Baldwin introduced us.”

“Well, it’s ok with me if it’s ok with your mother.” Screech! Reality slammed to a stop at my house. The look on my face said it all. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her tonight and then we will give you an answer in the morning. Are you sure you want to play football for Coach Kennedy? It will be like working for Mister except much harder. And people will be running into you, trying to knock you down.” Now I wasn’t so sure. But I nodded my head yes anyway. “That would really be something: My boy playing for Coach Kennedy at Centerville High. Really something.”

I could tell by my dad’s reaction that Coach Kennedy was a big deal. That evening I was extra helpful in the kitchen, cleaning all the pots and pans as well as doing the dishes without being reminded. I even took out the trash and put fresh papers in without being told. My sister Becka stared like I was possessed by Satan himself. I got ready for bed and still my dad hadn’t broached the subject with my mom. I went into the room I shared with my eleven year old sister and climbed into bed, under my open window that blew cool air across my nearly naked form. I was staring out the window when Becka came over and slipped into bed beside me.

“You’ve been acting weird all night,” she accused. “What happened in school today?” We spent the next half an hour telling each other about our day. While we talked I slipped my arm around her neck and she snuggled in against my chest. I stroked her arm and occasionally grazed her breast, glancing across her tiny hard nipple every so often because I knew it drove her crazy. When I started telling her about Katie Schultz, she tensed up.

“Are you getting a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll see. We just met.”

“What about me? Who do I get? If you get a girlfriend, you won’t want to snuggle with me anymore. You will want to snuggle with her. Then you are going to put your thingy into her hole and I won’t ever have a boyfriend who loves me.”

“Becka!” I hugged her tight. “You will ALWAYS be my girls. ALWAYS. Even when you are married and have kids of your own, I am going to love you as much as I do now. I am always going to want to rub against you. And some day, I hope you want me to rub you inside too. But not now. You are too young. I might hurt you. I love you and I will wait until after you have sex with another boy. Your first time shouldn’t be with your horny older brother. Your first time should be with some other girls horny older brother. You know?”

“Yeah, you’ve told me a million times. Now rub my pussy with that thing of yours so we can get some sleep.” I was only too glad to. She rolled on her side facing away from me and pulled her pajama bottoms down far enough to expose her ass and slit. I pulled my shorts down and assumed the familiar position behind her, rubbing her hot slit with the top of my cock until we both shuddered with a mutual orgasm. Then we cleaned up by licking each other and put our night clothes back on correctly. We fell asleep like that, her on my arm, my face buried in the back of her neck.

The following morning my permission slip had been signed. My mom tried to look pleased, but she couldn’t hide the worry. I packed a bag of gym clothes and while she wasn’t looking, took a couple extra handfuls of cookies to share at lunch. Three stops after I got on the bus, we picked up Katie Schultz and her little sister Kim. Those Schultz’s sure liked the letter K when came to picking girls names. Katie slid into the seat beside me.

“How’d your night go?” she asked too chipper for this early in the morning. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t taken my eyes off her since she got on the bus. I would have been heartbroken if she had sat anywhere else.

“Not as good as my morning,” I replied. Seeing her had certainly made the morning better. She threw her shoulder against mine and patted my thigh with her delicate hand.

“For a shy kid, you sure know how to talk to a girl.”

“You are the only girl I’ve ever felt like talking to.” She looked at me and smiled and my already smitten heart was now hers to toy with. That smile was my nirvana.

“I should ask you, before I go liking you or something, if you have a girlfriend.”

“Well, there is this one girl I met at school yesterday. She’s got brown hair and blue eyes and she’s so pretty it makes my heart sing whenever she smiles at me.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl, to have turned your eye like that. I think I should meet her before you go doing something silly like having a crush on someone who doesn’t like you back.”

“She’s right over there,” I pointed across the aisle of the bus to the empty seat beyond. “See her reflection in the window? Wave to her, she’s staring at you.” She kept looking at our reflection while I took the bold move of slipping my hand in hers. “Do you think I have any chance with a girl that beautiful?” She squeezed my hand.

“Yes, Paul. I think you have a very good chance of being her boyfriend. “

The rest of that day was just as great as my first day, except I knew the routine a little better. Several of the other guys brought brand new lunch buckets with them. Lunch itself was a boisterous affair, with everyone comparing what great food they had compared to the rest of the swill eating swine around us. I swapped a chicken sandwich for a fried chicken thigh and three cookies for a store-bought snack cake. It was good, but I liked my mom’s cookies better. After school I went down to the big gym with the rest of the freshman boys to hear about joining the football team.

“Centerville has a tradition of smash-mouthed football,” extolled Coach Kennedy. Only he pronounced it ‘foot-bawl’ with a long second syllable. “We have a freshman team which most of you will play on. We also have a junior varsity team, which some of you might get to play on. If you work damn hard. We also have a varsity team, which FRESHmen do NOT play on.” He stared directly at me. I never expected to play varsity football. I wasn’t even sure I would be good enough to play freshman football. When he finished his speech, he introduced the rest of the coaching staff and instructed the linemen to go with Coach Barry, the defensive backs to go with Coach Frank, the receivers and running backs to go with him. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go. “What do you need David? An engraved invitation? Get over here. I ran over and joined the receivers and running backs.

We spent the next thirty minutes checking out gear and getting it properly fitted. When we were all dressed, they trotted us out to the practice field to line up for warm-up calisthenics. Then Coach whistled and we all lined up along one sideline of the football field for ‘over and backs’. We’d sprint across the field, touch the far sideline and run back. All the while the coaches were telling us we were loafing and we ran like lazy gorillas and to get a move on. I ran as fast as I could. The helmet made it hard to see where the other guys were, but I could hear footsteps behind me, so I knew I wasn’t last. When I touched the line to head back, I could see most of the team was still running toward me. I sprinted through them and accelerated back to the other side. I stood on the far sideline, chest heaving while everyone else finished. Then we did it again. And again. And again. Twenty freaking times we sprinted across that field and back. Twenty freaking times I finished first by a large margin. The last couple of times, I finished before some of the heavier linemen made it to the far side. All those days of moving pipe, running in mud and dirt had put serious speed in my legs. My chest was burning, but still I kept myself upright, hands interlocked over my helmet to keep my arms up so my chest could suck in as much oxygen as possible.

The position coaches took their charges to different parts of the field. Coach Kennedy put us through our paces. First he would demonstrate how he wanted us to do a drill, then we would each run it. If one of us screwed up, everyone did pushups. The pushups were easy compared to pushing pipe through field corn, so I didn’t mind. Finally we started running pass routes with Coach Kennedy serving as quarterback. We each took a turn playing offense, then defense, then to the back of the line. I caught every pass thrown to me and knocked down nearly every pass thrown to the man I was defending. Finally the kid said “Let me catch ONE, wouldja?” When I did, Coach Kennedy blew his whistle and he made everyone on the practice field do twenty squat thrusts, even the linemen and d-backs. Then he walked over to me and said “Never, and I mean NEVER let up on another player. If they beat you, they beat you. But you make them work hard every play, every time. Got it?”

“Yes sir. It won’t happen again.”

At the end of practice he pulled us all together and talked about the practice schedule and how important it was to do well in class. Bad grades would get you benched. Then he blew his whistle for a break-down and we all yelled ROLL WARRIORS! Then my first practice was over.

“David!” Coach Frank yelled. “David, Coach Kennedy wants you in his office.” I was in the shower with about twenty five other players daydreaming about their cocks and what they looked like hard. I wasn’t having a gay experience, just a sexual experience with what was handy. Cocks happened to be handy. They all looked at me with pity. No one had ever gotten cut on the first day before. They turned away, ashamed to make eye contact. “NOW, son!”

I grabbed a towel from the stack and pulled it around my waist. I knocked on coach’s door and heard a gruff “Come in”. I slowly opened the door and I was confronted by six coaches, the full staff. Coach Kennedy sat behind his desk.

“Paul, I am going to do something I have never done in my twenty five years of coaching.”

“Yes sir,” I said looking down, too ashamed to look the man in the eye. I didn’t want these men to see me cry when he cut me for letting my teammate catch the ball. “I’ll turn in my gear. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Son, you got it all wrong,” he said with his voice softening. I guess I looked pretty pitiful. “You ain’t getting cut. Tomorrow you start practicing with the varsity. You’ve got some catching up to do. They’ve been in practice for a week. No you ain’t getting cut. You are making me break my hard and fast rule. I am gonna have a FRESHman on my varsity. Don’t let me down.” I didn’t know whether to whoop or wet my pants. Then I realized I wasn’t wearing pants. Suddenly I felt very underdressed.

“No sir, I won’t let you down. Thank you sir. Thank you. My dad is a big fan of yours.”

“Is your dad Pete David?” he asked. I nodded. “You tell ol’ Bullet David that his old coach says Hey. Tell him I look forward to seeing you break his records. Can you do that for me?” I nodded again. My dad had records? He’d played for Coach Kennedy? I was thirteen years old and I didn’t know any of that.

As I left his office I overheard one a coach remark, “Did you see his face? That David kid doesn’t even know his own talent. He thought he was getting cut.”

What I didn’t hear was Coach Kennedy reply “NO one knows his talent. Let’s keep it that way until Grant High. If he can take a lick, we might have our first double threat player since his father. Ever see a kid run over and backs like that? He got faster the more he ran.”

The Baldwins were waiting in the parking lot after practice. They were going to give me a ride home that night and every night. I piled in the back of that familiar green Datsun and enjoyed the last light of the fall evening on the ride home.

“Coach Kennedy told me to tell Bullet David he said Hey. Hey! He also said he looked forward to seeing me break your old records. You never said you had any records.”

“It’s a hard thing Pauly, being the son of someone who used to be kind of notorious. I never pushed you to do what I did because I want you to be your own man. I am glad you chose football. It must have been some kind of coaches meeting today, if you got bumped to varsity after one practice. I don’t know of any freshman who played varsity for Coach Kennedy.

Later in bed I was recounting my extreme good fortune. I had a new girlfriend, I had made the varsity football team, I had found out my dad had been a football star himself, and now my sexy little sister was rubbing her bare privates on my hard cock with the intention of making me cum.

“Can we try something different Becka?” I asked.

“Sure Pauly. Anything you want.”

“Get on top of me and lay facing me.” She lay on top with my cock sticking straight up between her thighs, rubbing against her slit. I pumped upward between her legs and she tightened them around my throbbing boner. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her right on the lips. It was awkward at first but we found a rhythm that we both enjoyed. The kissing got better too. Just when I was about to blow, I gripped her firm butt cheeks and squeezed. I kneaded her tense ass muscles a kept thrusting between her thighs. Finally I dipped a long finger into her damp hole and got it nice and slick. Then I pressed it against her tiny opening and increased pressure until she yielded and allowed me to insert the tip of my middle finger into her flexing hole. With that same hand I pressed my cock harder into her damp slit, eager to increase the sensation that her sex was giving my member. I was getting close to losing it.

“Becka, will you put it in your mouth? Please?” She answered by climbing off my dick and kneeling between my thighs. She pushed her hair behind her ear with one hand and pulled my cock to her mouth with the other. She couldn’t get much in her mouth, but it was enough for me. With a barely stifled groan I came in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could and the rest coated my cock. When she caught her breath, she licked my shaft clean.

“Your turn,” I said, pulling her up and turning her around until her feet were by my head and her pretty little snatch was mine for the licking. I licked her from tip to tailbone and spent plenty of time pushing my tongue deeper into my sister than ever before. She bucked and squirmed and tried to drown me with her copious juices. I was thirsty so nary a drop was wasted. Again we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I really loved my little sister.

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