It’s not often that Coach rears an Asian bull, but when he does, it’s always magnificent. They’re usually too small, too cute, just not masculine enough. They make perfect cheerleaders, and can make good jocks. But bulls? It’s just rare. But this boy is one of Coach’s favorites. He’s gonna make Coach a lot of money on stage, online, on tour. A lot of men are gonna be lining up to worship, fuck, suck and celebrate this glorious Chinese bull, and a lot of women are gonna pay to get bred by his elite seed.
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You and your rugby buddy have gotten to the point where you can no longer deny the attraction. You don’t know where things go from here; you’re just happy to be out of the halfway house you were in for months, years. So many near-misses, so many close-calls, so many lost chances. No more. Now, you and he are in deep and there’s no going back.
Tomorrow, when your blood is cooled, you’ll wonder what your rugby buddies will think…
Artist: Dsharp
It’ll be our little secret
When one of your brother’s friends is gay and confident. He offered to teach you how to kiss. Chicks, that is. To help you practice for when you’re ready to start slaying pussy. You’d never said yes to anything faster in your life.
Bone up on bros here.
You went on vacation with your bros and, as everyone knows, anything that happens on vacation stays on vacation.
When in Rome, fellas.
Bone up on bros here.
The guy at the next table was wearing a rainbow wristband. You and your buds decided to tease him a bit. Nothing mean, just some fun. You pulled down your shorts and underwear and licked your lips. “You want a taste of this, dude?”
The guy raised his glass and gave you a wink. “Why, you offering?”
You all laughed and went back to your drinks. Later, you cornered him in the toilets and he fucked your slutty jock ass as hard and rough as you ordered him to. You were starting to come to terms with the fact that you might possibly sorta be maybe gay kinda.
To be a bossy power bottom was a whole other pill to swallow.
Artist: Artisticjinsky
Bone up on bros here.
When you ask bro if these shorts make your butt look big, and he texts back that you look fucking perfect. You can always rely on your bud to give you a confidence boost. You pull them up a little more and start your squats.
Bone up on bros here.
When bro’s getting super bro-y while you’re working out, but you love him all the more for it. You’ve got an always-commando policy in the pad. Underwear just slows a bro down from getting where he needs to go. So it means your stuff is flopping around pretty righteously all the time.
It’s awesome hearing him tame pussy in the next room cause you know he’s packing and her moans aren’t lying. Shit must feel great.
Bone up on bros here.
*image has been altered (not by me)
When Mark dresses like this, it must be leg day. Can you blame my boi for wanting to show off?
The amount of dudes who paw at his ass when they walk by, at times blatantly rubbing their chubbed dicks while they do. Some of them are his regulars, some of them Mark’s never spoken to. Doesn’t matter. He’s a good boi, and a good boi’s body is a permanent source of pleasure for other men. Mark welcomes their molestation.
The gym attendants would say something about his attire, but Mark has most of them wrapped around his finger. It’s hard to tell a guy to show some propriety when he was lapping at your balls not two days ago.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Mark’s chatting up one of the bros in the showers and it’s going very well. Flattery gets you everywhere with a roided gym bro. Their vanity and self-obsession are already through the roof. Knowing another guy feels the same way is a vital step to getting these guys on side.
It’s a misunderstanding to think gym bros are “alphas”. That is, a supremely self-assured man. Men who take steroids and spend 10 hours a week in the gym are not self-assured. They’re vain and self-conscious and desperate for people’s positive judgment.
Mark knows this. Mark exploits this. Mark tells these men what they want to hear. He opens up a space for them to enjoy flattery without any side-eye or condemnation. He lures them into a false sense of security, then he springs his trap. That is, he offers the gym bro to share in his manly intimacy.
And it almost always works.
Almost all men are bisexual – many just need to spark to bring their homo side out. Mark is that spark.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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My boi Mark.
Mark’s a slut, a whore, a home-wrecker, a cocksucker, a fag, a good boi. He’s out, he’s proud, he’s confident as sin, and he always gets what he wants. It’s just a matter of finding the right angle.
And what he wants is masculine men. He’s a masc-chaser. He surrounds himself with masculine aesthetics and manly energy. That’s what gets him off, what sets him off, what pounds his heart and addles his brain. To Mark, there’s nothing sexier than an unabashedly masculine man reveling in his own virility. Marc does the same. He doesn’t just want masc, he is masc. Only elevated. He dresses well, smells good, looks damn fucking good. He wears color and sparkly shit, or else not very much at all. It’s to show off his man’s body – all muscle, chest hair and swinging cock. He’d say fem guys need not apply, but he’s not quite so exclusionary as that. He just has a very powerful preference.
And Mark’s a pro. You’ll find him on FortheFans, posting his latest nudes or jerk-videos or dildo fun. He’s yet to do anything with other guys, though. Crossing the line into outright pornstar is a big leap, and he’s doing just fine with his teasing, tantalizing shows. Fine enough to afford a swank pad in Brooklyn. My boi Mark has expensive tastes.
And what does he do with his glut of free time? He spends it at Warriors of Sparta; an elite gym filled with hot, muscular, masculine men who are always looking to get off. And Mark gets them off. He tops them, he bottoms for them; he sucks them, he fucks them; he worships their bodies, or lets them worship his. He’s got that gym wrapped around his finger, along with dozens of bros who he’s wrangled into his sexual maelstrom.
And it’s all Mark’s little secret.
So don’t tell their wives. Or boyfriends. Or bros.
Or do. Could be fun.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Coach teaches by example. That’s why you’ll find him in the gym twice a day, everyday, and wearing appropriate attire. The jocks have gotta learn.
It’s hard for the boys to imagine their Coach as anything other than the masculine stalwart he is. Forty-odd, fifty-odd; huge, rugged, strong; the authoritative patriarch; sexually unassailable. But he was young once, he was a jock once. All coaches start as jocks. That time when they were spry and youthful and full of a boy’s mischief and charm.
Coach Schmidt was one of those jocks who knew from an early age that he was gonna go on to form his own tribe. He wanted to be a coach. He looked up to his own coach with intense awe. Once he graduated from his coach’s program and became a full-fledged jock, he went to the military. He needed to be in an ultra-masculine space; the sort of space that made him hot and excited, yet safe and happy. The military honed his machismo further and gave him command of a group of young men. When he returned to civilian life, he was ready to become a coach.
And so he got set-up at a college far from his own coach so as not to have conflict, then got to work building his Team of jocks. Just as his own coach did.
And now there’s over fifty people in his tribe; assistant coaches, jocks, bulls, cheerbois and runts. He’s rich and prosperous; his program is perfect; he has endless access to cocky jocks and beautiful cheerbois to keep his dick wet. But this empire takes work and determination to keep. That’s reflected in his body. A coach’s body is his empire, symbolically. He must be the biggest and strongest jock on the squad. He must lead by example.
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This is the Bull Pool. Just a place for Coach Schmidt’s big boys to cool off in the summer when the heat starts to get to them. If you weighed 320lbs, you’d sweat like a fucking hog, too. And sweat they do. Coach doesn’t accept a boy as a member of his bullpen until he reaches that glorious 300th pound (fat in check).
If a bull’s been good, Coach’ll send in some of the cheerbois to keep him company. Those beautiful svelte bottoms love nothing more than sitting on the laps of their big brother-bulls, getting their puffy assholes violently played with, soaking in his obnoxious, reeking masculinity. The bull’s probably chowing down on a massive pizza during, or six men’s worth of hamburgers. Coupled with the cum oozing from his overactive cock, and the Bull Pool gets fucking disgusting fucking fast. A thick film of highly potent bull cum will cover the water by the end, especially if more than one bull shares the pool. A dangerous scenario. The bulls aren’t always too friendly with each other. If there’s plenty of food, plenty of hole, plenty of room, plenty of attention, then bulls can be the best of bros. If there’s ever competition for resources, then these huge slabs of meat can and do get violent. So Coach will only share the pool if he has plenty of cheerbois to spare for the evening. The clean-up, as ever, is left for the runts. Sometimes they’ll only have ten minutes to drain the scuzz from the pool before the next bull barges in and takes his pleasure.
Bulls are incredibly simple. They just wanna shovel food into their stomachs, lift heavy bits of metal, and put their dicks into tight holes. Coach ensures all three urges are kept well-satisfied.
Get Jocked
Read the Jocked novels here
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