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Eye on the Ball

by Wave

Eye on the Ball

Marco burst through the door, sweat drenching his shirt and glistening on his pale arms as he entered the dorm. Returning from basketball practice, he walked past the kitchen as his roommate Sidney passed him a beer. “Thanks, man,” he sighed exhaustedly as he collapsed on the couch. His first rest in several hours, Marco noticed with appreciation that the beer was still ice cold.

“You even going to shower first?” Sidney called over. “You’re gonna stink up the couch.”

“Sure. After this beer.” Marco turned his attention to the TV. 21 years old, he was an aspiring pro basketball player who had moved from Britain to the US to advance his career. His third year in the country, he was one of the fastest point guards in California with scholarship offers from a dozen other schools. He was toned and slender, had messy black hair, and wore a line of freckles across his face. His skin was very pale and since he usually wore only his basketball shorts around the dorm, his sleek, hairless torso was frequently on display for Sidney to admire. While skinny, Marco prided himself on his abs, boasting a well-defined six-pack with clearly visible obliques, and his chest showed budding pectorals. He didn’t work out much outside of basketball practice, but he was obviously very fit. Out of the four men living in the dorm, Marco was the youngest.

“Here, let me get that.” Sidney reached in front of him and picked up the remote. “I recorded that game you wanted to catch.” He switched to an NBA game that had played a few hours before. Reaching into his pocket, he fiddled with another, smaller remote until the sound system turned on. Sidney had taken some time on his computer to enhance the audio just for Marco. Marco wouldn’t notice the difference, but the subliminal track would spend the next few hours implanting a trigger in his unsuspecting mind.

“Great. Hey, what’s that you’re cooking?”

Sidney continued chopping vegetables, making sure to always have a reason to stay out of the common area while the sound system was on. He didn’t want to learn the same trigger he was teaching Marco. Smiling, he replied, “Salmon.”

“Cool.” Marco continued to sip his beer. Images of young, sweaty guys just like him, running up and down the basketball court, dribbling and passing and throwing, all began to blur together after awhile. Marco usually enjoyed critiquing the players he was watching, but lately, drinking beer and eating Sidney’s food, his eyes had a hard time watching the actual players. His focus remained perpetually locked on the movement of the ball, as it was vigorously handled by the people around it. It was mesmerizing.

It wasn’t until the game ended that he remembered to take his shower.


Three months into the season, Marco was having difficulty with his games. Practices would go very well, and his focus had never been sharper. His ball handling drills went exceptionally well, and he stood out for virtually never making a mistake. But whenever he was on the court against a rival team and was following someone else holding the ball, he’d get distracted. He was losing his edge, and he wasn’t sure why.

“He gives us the same fucking speech every time we lose a game,” one of Marco’s teammates whispered, leaning back on the bench, his expression slack from fatigue. “I just want to get back to my place.”

Marco sat solemnly as the coach finished talking to the team. Five minutes later, the seated group of men were released and walked, dejectedly, over to the showers. As Marco began undressing, another one of his teammates walked past him. Slapping Marco playfully on the back, he continued walking into the damp cube-shaped shower and turned on the tap.

“Hey, Marco, you going to Adam’s place tonight?” The teammate’s name was Parker. “There’s gonna be so many hot chicks drunk out of their fucking minds. I’m already excited.” Parker looked at Marco from his warm shower with a gleeful smile.

“Nah. I think I’ll just go home.” Thoughts of all of Marco’s mistakes from earlier that night continued to flood his head. Silently, he was ashamed.

“C’mon man, you need to relax tonight. Chill.” As Parker said this, he turned to rinse his back under the stream. As he turned, Marco caught sight of a tattoo next to Parker’s bellybutton. A small basketball was inked into his skin.

Marco finished stripping and walked into the shower area. “I- I do?” he stuttered. Forgetting to cover himself, Marco’s dick began to harden. Without realizing it, he accepted that he was going to the party. He needed to relax tonight, so he was going to follow Parker’s suggestion. Standing under his own showerhead, Marco began his own shower, but continued to stare at Parker’s torso.

Noticing the unusual attention, Parker chuckled nervously, unsure of why Marco was gawking. “What’re you staring at, man?”

“…Huh?” Marco continued staring, transfixed.

“What the fuck. You’re staring at my dick, man.”

Marco believed it.

“Seriously, man. It’s weird.”

Marco didn’t care. His face relaxed and his jaw loosened, his body focusing on what he needed to do. He’d been told that he was staring at Parker’s dick, so he had to do the best job he could to keep his eyes on it.

“He’s just gay is all, Park,” said Anton, another naked player as he stepped into the shower. After taking an inquisitive, sweeping look at Marco’s vacant face, he stepped under a third showerhead, and while turning it on, he scoffed, “You gotta check out my dick too, man. Don’t be givin’ all your time to Park’s puny-ass dick. This is the original python. Check this out.” With the biggest cock in the room, he turned toward Marco and held it out for him to see.

“Yeah, go suck on Anton, homo,” Parker said uncomfortably, turning back to his shower, unaware of the impact his words were having.

The idea burning into his head, Marco silently walked over to Anton and kneeled. He looked into Anton’s eyes pleadingly, almost as if asking for permission, then slowly, he reached out his hand and leaned forward.

“Holy fuck, man!”

“He’s actually doing what you tell him!” More nude members of the basketball team were now crowding into the shower, blocking the exit.

The realization setting in that Marco was following his orders, Parker tentatively gave a new command. “Marco, drill your soap bar into your ass.”

Marco reached for his bar of soap and bent forward, baring his tight asshole to everyone standing in the entrance. After several seconds of struggling to get the bar to insert, grunting and groaning in pain, Parker stopped him, his dick hardening as he finally decided how to take full advantage of the opportunity he had discovered.

“Marco, what I’m about to say to you, you’d better keep it quiet, got it? You ever tell anyone about this, and we’ll kick your fucking ass, got it?”

“Mm-hm.” Marco’s face was now completely blank. Any trace that he was registering what was happening to him was now completely gone.

“Alright guys, if you want some of this, make a circle around him.”

Quickly, every last guy in the room jammed into the shower to stand shoulder-to-shoulder around Marco. They stood silently, some with confused looks on their faces, but all of their dicks were now beginning to stir. Some of the guys had their hands on their dicks, getting them warmed up for the gift they were about to receive.

“Marco, you like milk?”


“Yeah, you love milk.” Parker’s mouth was now curled in a devilish grin. “And you put salt in it. You love salty milk, and when it’s sticky, you love it so much that it makes you hard. You can’t resist getting it all over your eyes, and stuck to your hair, and dripping down your neck. And the more of it you drink, the hornier you get. Right, Marco?”

“Uh… yup.”

“So come put your mouth on my dick, Marco. I’ve got some milk for you.”

Marco knew it was true.


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