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against his, athletic shorts grinding into baggy jeans.
    â€œI don’t!” The skater’s eyes widened. He felt Max’s solid boner poking his balls.
    Max laughed. “Yeah, feel that? Like that?”
    Alex moaned, unable to stop himself. He squirmed against Max’s massive dick, blood rushing to his own.
    â€œI got something now,” Max grinned devilishly, flashing the gap between his front teeth. He grabbed Alex’s crotch and pumped the skater’s cock and balls through his jeans. “Look at you go, faggot.”
    â€œFucking shit,” Alex moaned, throwing his head back into the mud. The trail of blood from his nostril reached his lip. The orange sky peeked through the treetops. Mud matted his hair.
    â€œOh, yeah.” Max’s hand pumped Alex’s growing boner, the violent friction hurting and teasing.
    â€œFuck,” Alex moaned.

    â€œTell me you like it,” Max said through his gritted teeth.
    â€œYeah,” Alex breathed.
    â€œYou think of this shit when you jack off?”
    Max pumped Alex harder, pounding his crotch with rage.
    Alex nodded feverishly and grabbed the glimmering blue tent of Max’s athletic shorts, easily pumping the loose hard cock.
    â€œOh, god,” Max quivered. “Fucking good.” The hairs on his arms and legs stood on end. The skater pumped with equal vigor. Max stopped pounding Alex’s dick and fumbled with the buckle of the boy’s wide cloth belt, pulling it apart and unzipping the skater’s jeans.
    Alex pulled Max’s athletic shorts down trembling thighs, and his eight-inch cut cock flopped out. Peach-sized nuts dangled halfway to the ground. Max yanked the skater’s baggy jeans down with his boxers, their dicks both exposed to the cool air. Max pressed his thickness against Alex’s smaller dick and pumped them together in his fist.
    Max’s sweaty balls bounced on Alex’s nuts. They moaned and Alex’s asscheeks sank into the mud. The lacrosse player whimpered as he pumped their cocks furiously, a sound Alex never expected to hear from the athlete. The skater humped into Max’s pumping hand, pushing into the warm space with Max’s cock sliding against his. Everything got slick with precum. They were in bliss, oblivious to anything but the sex, pain and anger peeling away.
    Â 
    Mr. Albrecht’s beat up Toyota pulled to a stop behind the black Chevy Tahoe on the side of the road. He turned on his emergency lights, got out and inspected the SUV. Traffic was light. An orange evening sun cast shadows. He went back to his car, but as he reached his door, he heard a groan of pain through the wind. He walked back to the Tahoe and looked down the embankment.

    In the shadows of the densely packed trees at the base of the ditch, Max Weston was fucking Alex in the mud, doggy-style, fast, angry and silent. They had their clothes on, except that Alex’s jeans and Max’s athletic shorts were pulled down to their knees. Max cupped the skater’s mud-smeared neck as he pounded his white, bony ass.
    Mr. Albrecht stared in a trance, then got on his hands and knees, obscuring himself behind the embankment, but not enough to block his view.
    He watched until they finished, holding his breath. They made no noise. The lacrosse player fell against the skater’s body, pushing him down into the mud. They lay together, muddy, sweaty and spent. Alex’s face appeared bloodied, but he was smiling. The athlete rested his lips on the skater’s cheek. He pulled the skater’s hair to turn his face so their lips touched and melted together. They tongued into each other, the athlete clutching the skater’s hair.
    The English teacher crawled away and went back to his car and drove home. He washed his face in hot water and stared in the bathroom mirror before scrubbing grass stains out of the knees of his khaki pants.
    Â 
    The next day when Alex told him he was the one who