What A Trip!
by Casper D

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When I coached a beach volleyball team for the gay leagues in West Hollywood, I did a lot of recruiting all over the country.

Recruiting for the volleyball team, not gaydom!

Anyway, I was returning from a recruiting trip (Norfolk, Virginia ...BLECH!) and I had just gotten into the airport in Los Angeles. Me and my team were waiting for the shuttle service when the bus came up. It was pulling up to it's stop, and this young man starts running after it like a crazy person, thinking it wasn't going to stop. I remember thinking, ‘Calm down fella … the bus is going to stop.’ Well, we get up to the bus, and we are standing next to the young man who had been running. He turns a looks at us, and right I away I noticed three things; he was Hispanic, he was EXTREMELY handsome, and he was crazy as fuck!

His handsome face looked manic, and his dark eyes had a wild, crazy roundness to them. To me he reminded me of a Latino version of James Cagney as he was in that movie where he screamed "Top of the world, Ma! Top of the world!"

I stopped admiring this young man’s movie star looks when I realized he had a gun!

The gunman looked over his shoulder toward the entrance to the building--checking to see if security guards would see and rush towards him. He jumped over several people lying on the floor and began running.

As this wacko gun-toting fellow ran past him, one of my players (Pete, my team’s Middle Back) stuck out his leg. We heard the impact of the gunman's shin against Pete's and watched the handsome crazy man fall, smashing his head against a luggage cart. The gunman went limp and his gun went skittering across the floor and to parts unknown. My team surrounded the unconscious man, ready to beat him down with our fists if we had to.

But Joey Freed, my team’s superb Outside Hitter, didn’t react with violence. In fact he almost tenderly cradled the motionless gunman to his lap while Pete quickly checked vital signs. "He's out of it," he reported.

Cute fella. He was of Mexican decent with gleaming glossy black hair slicked back on his head and seemed to be around twenty. He had a somewhat muscular frame, but he was short. About five feet seven. His skin was a light tan and his white tank top shirt revealed a broad chest and a flat, washboard stomach. His Green Card (Which are actually yellow, believe it or not) identified him as being Vicente Ernesto Escattina

We stood and stared at Escattina. He sure looked out. We, being a very horny troop of gay beach volleyball players, decided to examine our possibilities. We would remove Escattina's Converse sneakers and socks, and this way we could make moves to see if he was conscious, and yet have a viable excuse for touching him should he wake up or someone spots what we were doing.

He lay still as I pulled first his Converse sneakers, then his sweaty white socks off. I immediately fell in love with his feet. About size ten, smooth, perfect. His toes wriggled as I brushed my lips against those tan digits and inhaled the sweaty scent. It was not an unpleasant smell. When I kissed his toes their owner didn’t so much as flutter an eyelid. Yeah, our boy Vicente Ernesto Escattina was out of it, but was he just knocked out or comatose after having hit his head? I tickled the soles of Escattina's feet, and the cute tan toes wiggled, and the feet shifted a bit. But there was nothing in Escattina's handsome face.

Kneeling back, I gently tugged his khaki trousers and underpants down. Once they wee all the way off I threw them away carelessly. I straddled him. I was dominant sex fiend poised above the helpless crazed-but-unconscious formerly gun-toting thug. My entire team was more than ready to join in on the fun I was having. While gazing hungrily down at him I reached into my pants and grabbed my penis--could feel the surge and the rush of blood as it grew hard.

" Let me have a taste," replied Peter as he began to lick between the gunman's toes.

“Pene … pene …” the dizzy gunman began to moan blissfully as his toes were sensuously sucked. “Pene … pene …ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh … pene …”

Magdiel Juangonzales, my team’s Libero (and who was also of Mexican decent) explained that “pene” was Spanish for penis. The crazed gunman, loving the feel of having his toes suckled, apparently wanted someone to suck upon his cock as well!

I immediately decided that the best person to tackle that particular task was me.

And as my best player Pete ran his tongue up and down the Mexican's arch, and sucked on his toes, I first played with my own dick before taking on the penis of Vicente Escattina.

After watching for a few moments, my other players attacked--Joey and Magdiel each sucking on one of the Mexican’s swollen nuts and me licking Escattina's twitching cock until it began to ooze pre-cum. I then teased the rim of his dickhead, trying to see how much pre-cum I could get the knocked-out crazy young man to produce. Not much. I wanted his toes in my mouth again, so me and the star of my team decided to switch. After licking and sucking both of the gunman's feet, Pete took my place at sucking on his cock while I returned to the Mexican’s feet, sucking on all ten of his sweet toes and licking his smooth sweaty soles!

As his cock oozed out more pre-cum we saw it ooze over his dickhead, and poor Pete sucked on the dick in his mouth hungrily, while I was wishing that I could shoot the load that I had built up in my pants. Eventually Vicente Ernesto Escattina began to shoot his load, and Pete had no choice but to swallow the crazed-but-unconscious gunman's juicy load until his own swollen balls release a load of their own!