BateBook Shorts - All Male Fiction: The Trick

By: sausagewithgirth & Ryan Michaels

 

Jimmy’s teammates were tired of his cocky attitude. He acted as though the wins that got them to the meet were all due to him alone. So last night as he slept, his teammates used a stencil and permanent marker to play a trick on him. 

The trick, however, had a very different outcome than they had planned. His teammates had simply wanted to ridicule him in the showers and locker room for a while.

Jimmy woke up early the next morning, though, and went down to the pool to get in some laps. He knew the opposing team would be there getting in some practice before that day's meet, and cocky as he was, he wanted to do his laps in front of them.

Jimmy always did his laps in the nude (it was an all-male university) regardless of who else might be there (that cocky attitude of his again), and did not know his ass was sporting a new look, so he did nothing to try to hide it. 

Several members of the opposing team found it very interesting that Jimmy would be flashing a sign on his tight swimmer butt that invited men to use him like a whore. They figured that anybody advertising like that must want some immediate action.

All Male Fiction: Alex's Game (Part 2)

By: sebastian_wallace & Ryan Michaels

Read Part 1

Alex looked down at my dick as though to reassure himself that I was still aroused by this. Finding that I was - my little pencil was still poking upright in my briefs - he went on, "There's something weird about the slit on the head. It's kind of underneath it. I think it has something to do with my cock being so huge. You wanna see it?"

I'd never heard anything about this, even though I'd had dealings with cocks of many different shapes and sizes over the years. It was probably something unique to his own cock, which he just assumed was a consequence of its size; maybe a birthmark or a scar from a long-forgotten injury. I was intrigued, though, and figured it couldn't hurt to take a look, especially considering what had already transpired.

I shrugged. "I suppose so. But after that, we go back into the exam."

He smiled and said, "Yeah sure, whatever," and then, with his hand still on my shoulder, he began pushing down on it and said, "You'll have to kneel down on the floor to see it, though."

My knees began to buckle from the pressure he was exerting on my shoulder. "Yeah, kneel down," Alex urged as I began to willingly bend, lowering myself down until I felt the sharp coldness of the tile floor against my knees.

I peered intently at Alex's large, gently-pulsating organ. The smell of it - the sharp but inviting odor of the sweat in his pubic hair - was quite powerful as I stared closely at his piss slit. I didn't see anything unusual, though, and told him so.

"Take a look at it close up and you'll see," Alex replied. He was insistent, putting his hand on my head, as if to guide me towards the incongruity I was trying to find. He pushed his hips towards me so that his cock, now swollen to its full impressive size, was within an inch of my face.

I opened my mouth to tell him that I still couldn't see anything unusual, when Alex grabbed my head firmly and pushed his cock into my mouth. He slid it in and out a few times, no doubt feeling me resisting it in the initial shock of finding myself invaded by him, and then feeling me responding to him by urgently sucking at it as the pleasure of what he was doing overwhelmed me.

Still holding my head, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and swiveled my neck so that I was staring up at him open-mouthed. "You like that?" he asked. "Do you? Yeah, of course you do," he smirked before letting me answer, and then pushed himself back into my mouth.

I fed hungrily on his cock, as eager to pleasure it as if I were worshipping it; smothering it with my tongue and drinking the slow dribble of pre-cum down into my throat.

Alex soon bent over me as I blew him, and I heard him suck at one of his fingers before groping down my back to lift the bottom of my shirt and grope around my ass. He quickly located my asshole, hot and sweaty at the base of my ass crack, and pressed his moistened finger into me.

Perhaps sensing my intense pleasure at feeling myself penetrated and the eagerness to receive more, Alex stated, surprisingly calmly, "Stand up."

I did as he said, and watched as he reached down into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. From that he extracted a condom – a Trojan Magnum condom - and, with a practiced hand, quickly opened the wrapper and rolled the rubber down the length of his oversized prick.

All Male Fiction: Alex's Game (Part 1)

By: sebastian_wallace & Ryan Michaels

Revised: February, 2016

About half an hour into the exam, Alex raised his hand to attract someone's attention. Since I happened to be standing closest to him, I walked over to his desk.

As soon as the exam had started I'd been suspicious of him. The way he'd glanced around the exam room and leered over at me when he saw that I was one of the invigilators. I just knew he was going to try to disrupt things by asking dumb-ass questions or making pointless requests for unnecessary stationery or something.

One of his friend's was in the seat in front of him; another was a couple of feet to his side. He was bound to start pissing around. Who the fuck designed these seating plans anyway? Where were their brains?

"Yes, Alex?"

He grinned up at me. "May I go to the bathroom, Mr. Hargreaves, sir?"

Mr. Hargreaves, sir? Since when has he shown any respect for me? Smarmy little punk.

His friend to the left snickered.

I glared at Alex and then feigned an unpleasant smile, "Of course." So this was going to be his game - asking to go to the bathroom every ten minutes.

He stood up, his shirt hanging out from his school trousers, which were halfway down his backside. His school tie was yanked down so that the knot was level with his chest. I could easily have made a fuss about correct school uniform - make him publicly smarten himself up - but I thought I'd leave it. Keep it in the bag to give me something to use later on if I needed it.

He swaggered out of the classroom and I followed him, nodding to one of my colleagues to confirm I'd be supervising Alex while he was out of the room.

I felt pretty certain that this was just a ruse; a time-wasting activity designed to prove to Alex's buddies how unconcerned about the exam he was and to distract the more serious students from focusing on their papers.

This was the second paper for Physics. Alex didn't have a hope in hell of passing it; at least not if his performance in Math - the subject I taught him - was anything to go by.

He walked into the boy's room located just down the hall and I followed him in. Striding up to the nearest urinal, positioning himself in front of it so that he was side-on to me, he pulled out his cock. Then he looked over at me, smirking, clearly feeling pretty smart with himself, "Nice job for you, huh?"

I didn't rise to the bait. "You know the regulations by now Alex. You've got to be accompanied until you submit your paper."

He shrugged derisively, "Whatever." Then he looked down at his cock.

I noticed that, despite clearly being soft and floppy, his cock looked thick and large as he peeled back his foreskin to expose its fat, pink head. He wasn't urinating. He looked back over at me, "I can never go when someone's there."

"Do you want me to turn on a tap?" Why I was offering to do anything for him - the number of my classes which he'd deliberately and systematically ruined over the last four years - I don't know.

He shrugged. "It won't help."

Jesus, his cock was big. It must have been about six inches long and at least twice as thick as mine is even when I'm hard. Why was it always the pricks that got all the lucky breaks?

"What do you think of the paper?" he asked me. He wasn't even vaguely interested in my opinion of it. He was just trying to get me to comment on it so that he could claim he was unfairly influenced or something.

I smiled, "You know I can't discuss the paper with you... not now."

He grinned. "Like I'd tell anyone."

"Yeah, soul of discretion, aren't you?"

He looked a little irritated, or perhaps a little wounded. After a few seconds he said, "I'm smart enough to know when to keep my mouth shut."

I considered that and nodded slowly. Then I said, "Perhaps... but even if I wanted to discuss the paper, I haven't seen it for long enough to have formed an opinion on it."

He nodded and looked back down at his cock. He played with it idly while he waited for his bladder to relax. He jerked the foreskin across the broad head a couple of times. "Do you always have this much trouble going when you need to visit the boys' room?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No, but then I don't usually have some old guy perving on me, do I?" Before I could challenge him on that, he looked up at me and grinned again. "I know... I know... it's the regulations."

I smiled back. "It was the 'old' bit which I objected to, actually. I'm only thirty."

Alex kept smiling, "Yeah, it was just a figure of speech." He looked back down at his cock. Unless I was mistaken, it seemed to be getting bigger. It looked distinctly less flaccid than it had been a few moments earlier. "Anyway," he said, "In public washrooms and stuff, you usually have other guys next to you pissing. Kind of relaxes you a little. Know what I mean?"

"Well, I offered to turn on the tap - the sound of running water…"

"It wouldn't help. It's different. I dunno."

I thought about suggesting that he return to the exam until the urge to pee grew stronger. But then I realized that would be playing into his hands; giving him the opportunity to distract everyone every few minutes on the pretext of having a nervous bladder.

"Well, if you can't go here and now, you're gonna have to wait an hour before you're allowed out again," I said. "So you better start thinking of waterfalls or something."

He looked over at me. "An hour?"

I nodded. "It's in the regulations." It wasn't but I wanted to nip things in the bud.

"No one's ever said that before."

"I can show you where it's written in the booklet, if you wanna stay back after the exam is finished?" I knew that Alex wasn't the type of guy to stay back in school a second longer than he had to.

He shrugged. "Look, I wanna go but I can't. It's just not happening even though it feels like I really need to go." He seemed surprisingly genuine. Perhaps he really was feeling nervous by having me standing there staring at him.

"I can't leave the room, Alex. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that…" He hesitated, staring ahead at the tiled wall in front of him. Then he went on, "I don't suppose you wanna take a piss, do you?"

All Male Fiction: My Best Friend (Part 5)

By: Lucas Miller

Read Part 4 | Read Part 1

The bus trip back to my campus was long and uneventful. I tried to sleep, but my mind raced with images of Josh, Marc, and the others that I had met while visiting my best friend at his school.

But now I was on a bus heading back towards my old life, the time before I discovered the joy of being close to someone in every aspect of being. How could I return to the way that I used to live? How could I interact with the same people as before without letting them in on what I had experienced? Or should I just tell them?

Telling them would probably be a mistake. I didn't know them very well. Sure we hung out together and joked around, but they knew little about my past and I took little interest in their lives outside of school. It would be best to keep quiet for now.

As I got closer to my school, the longing for human touch became more intense. I wanted Josh's hand on my chest. I wanted him to gently kiss me while his hands moved over my body. And I would let him do whatever he wanted.

I could not think of one person who could fill that void. My roommate, Russell, didn't seem to fit. He was a bit of a geek. He hardly ever left the room. He was either studying or playing video games. I don't even remember seeing him without his shirt. In fact, he always went to the showers very early in the morning or late at night when it was empty. He would go fully dressed and come back fully dressed. How odd. I wonder if he has some massive birthmark that he doesn't want someone to know about.

Russell and I rarely spoke. I knew that he was from Virginia and had an older brother who graduated a year ago from the same college, and that his parents were divorced. Russell never spoke of current or previous friends, and shared close to nothing about what he enjoyed doing (reading and playing video games).

When I arrived at the dorm, it was a little after ten at night. I was tired after the long trip and just wanted to just get into bed and start fresh the next day. Fortunately, Russell had had the same idea. He was already in bed when I opened up the door. He lifted his head slightly and grunted a "hello."

I tossed my stuff on the floor by my bed, undressed to my boxers and got into bed. I couldn't fall asleep, though. I laid awake for over an hour. Russell was quiet in his bed. He had the covers pulled tightly up to his neck. I again wondered what he was hiding under his sheets and clothing.

Around midnight, Russell suddenly moved about in his bed. I could see that he was facing me and appeared to be looking directly at me. I pretended like I was asleep, and shortly after he got up and went to his desk. I heard him take a couple of tissues out of the box on the desk and return to bed.

I slowly opened my eyes. With the covers pulled back up to his chest, he turned away from me. I heard the rustling of clothing and a waistband snap softly. Was he going to jerk off? Good 'ole Russell actually had a libido!

He was very quiet about it, but I knew he was jerking off. The covers moved with a quiet swish as his right arm and hand went to work at bringing himself off. I don't think I had ever been as quiet as that.

About ten minutes after he had started, Russell's breath began to get heavier. His arm was moving more quickly now, and beneath the sheets his body was becoming more rigid. He was definitely very close now.

Despite the fact that I couldn't see anything except an occasional silhouette, I was also getting very aroused. Without realizing it, my hand had slipped inside my boxers and I was running my fingers over my hard cock. I didn't know what was making me more excited: the idea that my roommate was masturbating only a few feet from me or that Russell was exposing flesh that he never showed in the daylight.

There was a low grunt from Russell's bed, followed by another less obvious one. His arm had slowed down considerably and his body appeared more relaxed. Then he pulled his clothes back on and he got up again. I heard him drop the tissues in the trash and get back into bed.

My hand never left my cock. It was still very hard and it would not permit to just leave it that way. I started stroking it, trying to be as quiet as Russell was. I kept looking over at his bed. He didn't seem to be facing me.

Although I considered giving him a show, I decided I didn't want to embarrass him. He obviously thought I was asleep, so my strokes were short and concentrated around the head of my cock for the most pleasure.

But my mind drifted. I thought of Josh and his hands on my cock. I pictured him moving down in the bed and stroking my hard cock as he ran his fingers over my balls. He was naked and I was naked. Marc was sitting by the bed undressing. He got down to his underwear, and I saw that they were my boxers. In my mind, he kept them on as he rubbed his cock through the cloth.

Josh was becoming more forceful with my cock and balls. He had a tighter grip on my shaft and was pulling at my nuts. Sweat was running down my face and chest. I was getting close. I wanted Josh to put his mouth on my cock, and I wanted to taste Marc's sweet prick.

But the fantasy was interrupted. Russell turned his lamp on and was looking at me sternly. "What the hell are you doing?"

All Male Fiction: On the Mat

By: Unknown Author & Ryan Michaels

It was a grueling practice. The coach had worked us hard, trying to get us ready for the meet that was coming up against our rival school. Their wrestling team always beat us, but this year Coach was determined that we would win. So he was always on our butts, pushing us harder and harder, regularly keeping one of us after practice for extra coaching. A lot of guys on the team would grumble in the locker room about how hard the coach would work us during practice, but not me. I enjoyed the hard, sweaty workouts with the team. It gave us some team spirit, not to mention a common "enemy" - Coach Meyer.

One thing you gotta say for Coach, he knew his business. He was the top in his weight class in college, and here he was, not two years later, coaching our team. He kept himself in great shape, too, always working out in the weight room, keeping his body hard and tight, never deviating much from his 177lb wrestling weight. Broad, muscular shoulders, defined pecs, narrow waist and hips - a great body for a wrestler.

We were in the same weight class, and my body was pretty good, too. I worked out for it, trying to keep up with Coach, and did pretty well, too. I was just a bit smaller in the shoulders, but otherwise we were pretty evenly matched, body wise.

Not to say that any of us on the team were slackers. We all kept up as best we could with Coach. Kind of a pride thing. First thing we did before practice was meet in the weight room for a workout. Coach was always in there before us, and worked with us almost like a personal trainer, pushing us to go harder. Then we'd go into the wrestling room, pairing up and testing each other, trying new holds, sweating up a storm.

This day, all the guys were exhausted after practice. We all hit the showers, but there was none of the usual horsing around. We all just wanted to get out of the gym to nurse our sore muscles.

And most of us did. I wasn't so lucky. I was one of the last in the showers, and so was one of the last to be in the locker room, drying off, when Coach walked in.

"Tim," he said, "I'm not happy with your workout today. You weren't taking care of business out there. Get back into your singlet. We've got some work to do."

"Ok, Coach," I said. But it wasn't ok. I had just showered, and now had to get back into my sweaty uniform, not to mention my only jock, which was also damp with sweat, only to have to shower again later. But Coach seemed pretty insistent, and I was the only one left who had yet to go through some additional one-on-one coaching after practice, so I didn't really have much of a choice.

When I came out of the locker room, I found Coach standing on the mat, waiting for me, his hands on his hips, still in his singlet.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," I answered. "What was I doing wrong?"

"You weren't pushing for the pin like I told you. The only way you're gonna win at wrestling is to go for the pin, all else be damned."

"Yeah, but Coach..."

"No buts, Tim. Let me show you how to do it."

He hunkered down in wrestling position, ready to lock up with me. I did the same. We approached each other, got our hands on each other's shoulders, he slipped his hand behind my neck, and we started to circle each other. He shot his hand out, catching me behind my knee, and pulled up, toppling me back. He landed on top of me, swung around, catching me in a deep crotch hold, trying to cradle me up into a fast pin. But I managed to bridge back, preventing him from getting my shoulders down. As I did this, I felt his hand slip through my legs, until it rested on the pouch of my singlet. I thought I felt his hand give it a slight squeeze, but I was sure I was mistaken.

I got my arm around his neck, slipped my arm through his legs, and rolled him over on his back. Now I was close to pinning him, but he rolled through, and away from me. He stood up, ready to lock up again.

This time, I managed to get my arms around his chest in a bear hug, lifting him off the mat, and slamming him down, with me on top. He wrapped his legs around me in a body scissors and held me there. We were chest to chest, crotch to crotch. I grabbed his wrists to pin them over his head, when he broke his scissors, and bridged up. I was on top of him, feeling the pressure of my dick pushing down on his, and noticed that he had thrown a rod. The feeling of his dick against mine caused a reaction in my own crotch, and I started to get boned up, too.

We wrestled like that for about fifteen minutes. I could partially see some of his cock outlined as it stretched the material of his singlet. My full-on hard-on was even more obvious in my singlet, but that didn't stop us. Guys always get hard-ons when they wrestle, it's natural.

Finally we broke off for a short rest. We were both soaked with sweat and panting from the exertion. We both lay on our backs, trying to get some air into our lungs, when Coach turned to me. "Not bad, Tim," he said. "I knew if I pushed you, you'd do ok."

"Thanks, Coach. You do pretty well yourself."

He laughed, and punched me in the arm. I did the same to him. He hit me again. Pretty soon, we were rolling around with each other, play-wrestling. He landed on top of me, getting me in a tight bear hug, trying to pin me down. Suddenly we both stopped, realizing that our crotches were mashed together. Coach rolled off me and stood up.

"This singlet is too wet to wrestle in," Coach said and then began to peel himself out of it. "Yours is soaked with sweat, too. Strip it off, Tim," Coach Meyer said as he tossed his singlet to the floor and stood looking down at me, hands on hips, in just his jockstrap.