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[[Category:Amberton|Meet Jonathan "Jack" Lancer]]
[[Category:Amberton|Meet Jonathan "Jack" Lancer]]
[[Category:Meta Stories]]

Revision as of 23:40, 12 January 2020


A teenager tosses fitfully in his rumpled queen-size bed, apparently caught in the throes of some night-borne vision. He kicks off the covers in his struggles, revealing a tall, lean form, awkward with changes as the youth straddles the border between the boy he was, and the man he will be. He is soaking in sweat, fighting the phantoms in his mind, a low growl escaping his sleeping lips.

Jack jolts awake, soaked in sweat, his heart pounding, his rock-hard cock spurting gushes of hot teenage sperm into his sweatpants as he had a huge orgasm in his sleep. He spasmed in the bed as he flooded his sweats, trying his best to keep the hot, sticky mess off his sheets. After what felt like forever, Jack's treacherous cock finally stopped slinging gouts of spunk in his pants, and he was able to lay back, panting, to catch his breath.

"Holy shit, what a fucking dream...." Jack muttered to himself under his breath. The dream was already fading, but Jack remembers it somewhat, all sweaty, straining bodies, soft lips, round asses, as he'd been driving his erection furiously up the asses of one young boy after another, a procession of gay anal sex He shuddered, looking ruefully at the mess in his pants.

He definitely needed to get laid.

His girlfriend, Piper, had been busy with cheer practice the last few weeks, and so they'd not had sex for a little while. Jack wasn't worried about it, Piper was awesome, but....

Jesus, what a dream. It was the first time, ever, he'd dreamed about anything like that...even remotely like that. It was...damn.

Jack shuddered. What the fuck was wrong with him? He scrubbed the sweat out of his eyes with the heel of one palm, then gingerly got out of bed and peeled the sticky mess in his sweatpants off his still more-than-half erect cock. He glanced at himself in the mirror on the closet door, seeing a tall, lean form, sleek but well-muscled, with his big, treacherous seven-incher hanging smugly out of his dense patch of dark pubes. Piper certainly liked the way he looked, and he missed her. He shook his head, as if to shake off his thoughts. He had football practice after school today, so it was a light workout morning.

Jack checked the time, and he was early this morning, but he was far too rattled to even think about going back to sleep. The tall teen pulled on some shorts over his cum-slick semi-chubby and grabbed a towel, then stripped the bed of the soaked sheets, shoved the sperm-soaked sweatpants into the mass, and headed to the garage. Along the way he stuffed the clothes into the washer and started the cycle, to get rid of the evidence.

In the garage, he hopped onto the treadmill, he was still shooting to get his 5k time under twenty minutes, and he started running at a brisk pace. He settled into the run, pushing hard, earphones on with an audio book about his history homework. He usually did his studying during his workouts, to pass the time, but today, he got nothing from the recorded textbook.

All he could think about was that damn dream. It was vague now, just memories of smiling boys wrapping their slim, coltish legs around him, his massive erection sliding greasily into their rectums, or pretty boyish lips eagerly sucking him off, over and over.... Thank god it was just some 'generic boys', if he'd dreamed about somebody he knew, cripes....

Why was he dreaming about that sort of awful stuff, anyway?

Realization struck. Gary.

His friend, one of the guys on the football team, Gary Wells. They were pretty good friends, or at least they had been, until at the beginning of the school year Gary had confessed to Jack that he was gay. That was cool, of course, but it suddenly explained why Gary had been trying to be his best buddy so hard. Jack was on the football team and pretty well-liked by most in their school, so he had a lot of friends. He'd thought Gary was being a bit try-hard because the littler teen was angling to get close to Piper, but it seemed he'd mis-read the target. Jack had stayed friendly, but then Gary had casually mentioned that he was fooling around with a couple of freshmen...and that wasn't so cool.

Jack had also noticed Gary frequently talking to younger boys on the school bus...and that was really not cool. Then, Gary had dropped mention that he and his little brother Timmy were 'doing some stuff'. And, wasn't THAT a revelation to be thinking about! Jack had been in a quandary, to be honest. Should he...tell somebody? What Gary was doing seemed wrong somehow, but Gary was a great guy otherwise, it seemed wrong to just...rat him out like that. It was a real headache! Jack had been struggling with what to do for weeks, now....

And so, Jack's weird subconscious must have been more upset about Gary's skeevy behavior than he'd realized, and tossed up that..gay boy sex-dream for...some fucked up reason.

Cripes.

The treadmill beeped and went into cool-down, and Jack, surprised, looked down. Already?

His time was 14:54. Jack stared, wide-eyed. That was...really good. He'd cut almost six minutes off his best time! Hell, he was barely even winded!

Jack got off the treadmill and went to the barbells he had in the corner. He did three sets of five heavy dead-lifts every morning, as heavy as he could budge. It didn't seem like a radical workout, but as Coach said, persistence paid, and you could get surprisingly strong with a few maximum-effort exercises. Jack was up to almost four hundred pounds, even though it felt like he was pulling his guts out every morning...except not this morning.

The bar sailed off the ground like it was made of foam plastic, and he powered out his sets without even breathing hard.

Jack sat the bar back down, and loaded up every plate he had left....over five hundred pounds. He could still lift it, although that was now work again.

Bemused, Jack headed back to his room. Aside from that fucked-up dream, it was a great morning so far!

Jack rolled back into his room, comfortable clutter everywhere, and took a minute to grab some clean sheets and sort-of half-make the bed. He could fix it for good tonight.

The tall teen paused for a second, looking at the bed, and unbidden, thoughts of that awful dream rose to the front of his mind. His cock instantly started swelling, even as he did his level best to NOT think about...what he'd dreamed about.

In less than ten seconds, he suddenly had a raging boner aching in his shorts. Obviously, he couldn't take a shower like that, the bathroom for his bedroom was shared with the bathroom of his little brother, Franky, and the kid had nervous bladder issues or some such crap, and couldn't be locked out of the bathroom.

Time to get to work!

You need to handle this issue, what do you do?