"Bro, pass me the ball!" Mark shouted to Mike. Mike kept on running through the field with the ball, ignoring Mark. His strawberry-blond hair was swaying in the summer wind, his shirt clinging to his abs and pecs, and his blue soccer shorts were so high up his thighs it felt like he was running wearing nothing but his boxers. Mike quickly changed direction, running to an unprotected spot to the left of the goalie. He looked like he was about to pass the ball to Mark--he turned towards Mark--the opposite's team defense was blocking him--and he kicked the ball square into the goal. Score!
Later in the team showers, Mark was annoyed. "Mike, why didn't you pass me the ball?"
"Bro, I scored it!"
"But it's a team game," Mark replied.
Mike simply looked back at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Mark repeated himself, "Yeah, I know bro, but it's a team game." Mark's voice was weaker by the end of the sentence: "Mike was right," he thought. "He did score, and thanks to him the team won. I don't know if I could do it."
Mike, as if reading Mark's mind, turned away and continued washing himself. The conversation was over. Mike did right.
Mike was elated. He was always good at soccer, and now that he broke up with his ex-girlfriend he was able to dedicate more time to it. He replayed the game in his head as he showered. The wind in his hair, he recalled, as he washed his hair with shampoo that foamed and smelled with mint. Although a senior in college, he still had a baby face, with only a little facial hair growing on his upper lip, which he shaved, and soft, bright, shining blue eyes. He had fuller lips than most white guys, golden skin, and some freckles. He continued to soap his torso. Mike was fairly tall at 6 feet. Playing soccer, he developed a good physique: he wasn't too buff, but he had clear pecs with pink and wide nipples and a hint of a six pack, smooth except for a dirty blond hair between his bellybutton and his trimmed pubes, and some hair under his arms. While generally lean, Mike had a bigger butt because of all the soccer drills. His dick, now soft but extended from the hot water, was hanging below his full balls. When completely hard, it was straight as a nail and just over 7", which Mike took pride in. He loved having a big dick.
Mike fucked. His last girlfriend, Emily, had been his longest relationship yet, and they were together for 6 months. During this time, he fucked her in his dorm room, in his dorm room while his roommate was sleeping, in her dorm room, in her parents house, and in a dressing room at H&M. She wasn't really into public sex, but he was just the kind of guy that looked so sweet and hot at the same time that it was hard to say no to him. Getting caught having sex in public with Mike was more of a thing to be proud of than to be ashamed of. Besides, past girlfriends of Mike went through a lot more than Emily. But Mike and Emily had broken up over a month ago, and Mike hadn't fucked since. Initially it was an inconvenience, but now it was getting worse: Mike was starting to get erections during class or on the bus, and was getting hornier by the day. He didn't like to jerk off because he saw it as demeaning: why jerk off if so many girls would do it for you? Mike stepped out of the shower, taking his time to dry himself off with his towel, happy to give everyone around a look, and then he put his blue boxer briefs, jeans, and his school's sweater and went home.
The next day Mike needed to give a presentation in French class, together with Mark. Mark tried, but he wasn't very good. He pronounced everything like an American and he just couldn't get a grasp on the grammar. In contrast, Mike grew up spending summers in France with his cousins, and, while he had never had formal education in French before this class, it seems like he picked up a lot as a child. This presentation was a piece of cake.
Next were Jack and Nelly. Nelly was a sweet, quiet international student from India, who picked up French really well in college, while Jack couldn't utter two consecutive words in French to save his life. But everyone knew Jack, even though he was a sophomore. Jack hadn't missed a single day at the gym since his freshman year of high school. By now, he was so lean that you could see the outline of every well-developed muscle under his clothes. His muscles were firm and clearly visible, but not oversized. His shirt hugged his pecs, outlining his small pointy nipples, draping over his six pack. His track pants wrapped his waist tightly, and the bottom of the pants was stretched by his muscular calves, exposing his ankles. Jack was short, but what he lacked in height he made up for in appearance: not a drop of excess fat, buzz cut brown hair, piercing brown eyes, a sharp jaw line accentuated by always-well-trimmed stubble. His pale white skin was accentuated by the brown hairs of his beard, on his hands, and well-trimmed brown hairs on his chest.
Jack had a reputation. His dick's length was average, 6" when completely hard, but it curved upwards strongly. Combined with his physique, he was known to make girls cum, and cum hard. He never touched their pussies with his hands. He would never even think of eating pussy. He would let the girl suck on his dick for a bit, and, when it was wet, he'd shove it in her pussy. He'd go not too fast in the beginning, but after a minute or so he'd get into berserk mode. For half an hour, he would piston in and out of her pussy rapidly and non-stop. He might cum several times in the middle, but he wouldn't stop or change his rhythm. His curved dick would massage the clit from the inside of the girl, making her cum repeatedly for over a dozen times throughout this rough, rhythmic fuck. While Mike was the sweet surfer-gone-soccer-player boyfriend with a few kinks, Jack was a machine.
At the end of class the Prof announced new pairs for presentation next week, assigning Mike and Jack to present together. Both were happy: Mike knew that next to Jack his French skills would shine all the brighter, while Jack was happy that someone else would do the work for him, leaving him time to go to the gym and fuck. This is why Jack was a little surprised when at the end of the class he was approached by Mike.
"Hey man! Wanna meet up some time to prepare this presentation?" Mike shot him a dreamy smile.
Jack took a second to respond, so Mike went on, "Maybe tomorrow? I don't have class until noon, so we could just work in my dorm."
"Sure man. Let's do 10am at your dorm. Where do you live?" Jack assented, without much enthusiasm.
