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< BREAKING BAKER MAYFIELD > < entry one >
Baker Mayfield couldn't tell you why, but he went in. The first time was seven years ago, driving through a small, podunk town in his home state of Texas, the summer before his senior year of high school. The future Heisman Trophy winner and first overall NFL draft pick had no idea the flood gate he'd opened, albeit just a small crack at the start.
Horny and naive, the 17-year-old high school quarterback found himself in a deserted sex shop where the old guy at the register barely acknowledged the teenager's existence. At first casually picking up a pack of condoms before perusing porn and a myriad of unsavory toys he'd never seen or dreamt of seeing, giggling like a dumb frat-boy-in-training, the cocky athlete found himself lured to the backroom, where sounds girls screaming from getting fucked blasted from every speaker.
It was completely dark except for the dusty TV screen showing a hot girl eagerly sucking cock through a hole in the wall. Hypnotized and buzzing with an excitement he'd never experienced before, Baker - dumbstruck and unable to control himself - slowly pulled out his already-hard cock and positioned it at the round opening on the wall. His boyish, baby face flushed with surprise, letting out a loud gasp when he felt a hot mouth instantly swallowing his teenage cock. The jock suddenly was nervous, hearing footsteps all around, his ears quickly adjusting to soft moans around him; he knew he should get out ASAP, but that mouth on the other side of the wall, wet and hot, unrelenting, insatiable and so damn skilled, sucked and sucked so hard and deep on Baker's beer-can sized cock that the jock blew his load into the anonymous mouth within seconds.
Baker had been addicted ever since, and the addiction only intensified when he started college at Texas Tech. Every out of town football meet, any weekends off from training or school, the six-foot tall, beefy jock dumped his load into anonymous throats behind filthy, sticky walls at any random Texas sex shops he could sneak off to find. No matter how many sorority girls sucked him off or opened their legs to the quarterback earlier that week, Baker always managed to find an off night to satiate his new addiction: Each and every one of these blow jobs were lightyears better than any he'd gotten from girls, but it was also the thrill of anonymity, of the luridly-dank environment, of the smell of sex, of knowing he's somewhere he should not be, of the sounds of porn blasting, of the violent shaking of adjacent walls when other perverts like himself managed to blow loads into these girls' mouths.
Baker had even driven for hours in the middle of the night once, after a lousy fuck with an on-again-off-again girlfriend, just to experience a few minutes of thrill, and to unload his seemingly-endless supply of jock cum. These dark room visits never last more than a few minutes; all the adrenaline and pent up sexual energy, building minute by minute while driving somewhere he didn't know, always had him on edge the whole way there. But Baker didn't care. He just needed it. Again and again.
...
The first time the sex-crazed Baker had the earth shattering realization that the mouths on the other side of these walls could possibly, possibly, possibly belong to a man instead of a woman was after he transferred from Texas Tech to University of Oklahoma halfway through his freshman year. Desperately horny after a moving from Texas Tech and facing a year of ineligibility to play for the Oklahoma Sooners, Baker's sexual appetite was spinning out of control. At Texas Tech, Baker never once thought he'd get caught, literally, with his pants down, or the scandalous repercussions. He was winning and carried on with willful impunity. However, with his move to Oklahoma, Baker knew his collegiate career was really on the upswing now, his goal of playing for the NFL a step closer, and that his coaches were watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to fuck up, to get in trouble.
He knew had to behave. He had to. To workout with the team. To train harder than the rest. To watch his teammates play ball. To be perfect. All the fucking time. Waiting. For. The. One. Shot. To. Make. It.
Baker nearly lost his mind. He'd dared not set foot off campus, knowing his suppressed urges would quickly take over. The longest few months of his life dragged on, with one mediocre hookup after another, one subpar tryst after clingy fucks, one bad blow job after another worse blow job with all these college girls. Baker was dying for the the summer, knowing his fettered life would be on pause soon. He'd play ball soon. He'd be a real Sooner. He'd... have a few months before the new school year, to be back in Texas... to be far away from people who would know his coaches or his school. To feed his demons.
As soon as he finished his last exam and not a minute later, the now 19-year-old athlete - buzzing and nearly-exploding with nothing but adrenaline and sex on his mind - jumped in his car and sped home to Texas for the summer. Don't stop. Keep going. Just keep driving. Eyes ahead. Put a fucking boring audio book on. Get out of Oklahoma. Get to Texas. Just. Keep. Driving.
Baker barely lasted 30 minutes speeding away from campus when he spotted a seedy sex shop nearing the distance. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
It was the middle of the afternoon. Broad daylight. Baker was so hard he was shaking. The next thing he knew, the jock found himself parked in front of the shop in an empty lot. He furiously fumbled in his bag for a baseball cap and clumsily grabbed an old dirty hoody from his back seat even though it was hot as fuck outside. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.FUCK!
Baker was sweating profusely from the Oklahoma summer heat and from nervous anticipation. The jock didn't even pretend to browse in the shop. With his cap drawn low with the hood up over his head, Baker spotted the entrance to the backroom right away. The shop was empty, and he didn't dare make eye contact with the old man behind the counter.
The familiarity of any dank, dark backroom made Baker already-hard cock leak. The sound of girls getting fucked on screen, the creaky, sticky floor under his flip flops, the darkness of it all... Baker felt his heart on the verge of jumping out of his chest as his fingers traced the black walls of the maze as he navigated in the dark. Is anyone even in here?
Finally finding a door, Baker slipped inside and shut it tightly behind him as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. Tossing off his hoody and dropping his shorts, unveiling his angrily-red and dripping cock, Baker gripped the edges of the cubicle wall and impatiently stuck his six-inch, beer-can cock through one of the many holes on the wall. Please let there be a mouth, please let there be a mouth...
"UGHN! OH GOD! YES! FUCK! JESUS CHRIST! HOLY FUCK!"
It was immediate, and it was better than he'd remembered. After all these months of self denial, Baker felt an expert mouth and throat inhale his cock, slurping, sucking, hoovering like a trained profession, and any anxiousness or nervousness he felt going in dissipated immediately. Turning his cap backwards to rest his forehead against the wall and desperately enjoying the girl's expertise, the overheated jock impatiently tore off his already sweat-soaked tank top and stepped out of his shorts and boxers as he began slamming his cock into the accommodating mouth with wild abandon.
"I'M GONNA CUM! YOU WANT MY CUM, BABY? YOU WANT IT, BABE?! UGHNN! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!!!" The mouth was too wet, too hot. The throat was too tight, too trained. Baker lasted maybe a minute after stripping down, his knuckles white from gripping the top of the wall, his legs shaking, his long toes curling and flexing uncontrollably in his flip flops, his baby face and naked, muscular body completely drenched in sweat as he clung on to that wall, riding the best orgasm imaginable after all these months, feeling that voracious mouth continue to drain every drop from his balls. Baker could only shudder and shake... he was still hard... he didn't want it to end. He wanted more.
...
Oblivious to Baker was that the parking lot behind the sex shop was full of cars. Oblivious to Baker was that the old man behind the counter eyed the obviously-nervous kid up and down like candy as he came in and licked his lips hungrily, before turning on the security camera in the backroom, something he rarely indulges in after decades of owning the shop and only reserved for prime, fresh meat. Oblivious to Baker were all the eyes behind all those glory holes, watching him, waiting to see what he'd do. Oblivious to Baker were all the men, eagerly stroking their hard cocks as they watched the athlete freely strip naked and hungrily waiting for their turn.
Such a hot kid. Muscular but not overly so, adorable and boyish face, muscular legs without too much hair, thick arms and ripped biceps, and two glorious mounds of white ass cheeks, jiggling and glistening with sweat. Clearly a collegiate athlete from University of Oklahoma, the men delighted in spotting Baker's Sooners shorts and backwards cap. Closeted college kids were dime a dozen here, but nobody quite like Baker had turned up like this in some time. They could smell Baker's sweet, stinky scent, at once boyish, manly and reeking of desperation and pure sex. The way his back muscles and ass cheeks flexed, how sweaty he got, how his body trembled, how he moaned and grunted, how he clung to that wall, how he rose on his toes... Much to their disappointment, the kid lasted only a minute, if not less. Regardless, some managed to blow their loads watching the hot jock cum, and others just counted themselves lucky for witnessing such an animalistic orgasm and the sweaty mess of a kid before them.
...
Baker stood there for at least minutes before snapping out of his orgasmic coma. The mouth was gone for lord knows how long already, but the athlete, deep down, was wishing for more. He was still hard. He could still feel his balls boil with a fresh batch of cum. But panic set in. Get out. You had your fill. Get out.
Anxiously looking around for his clothes, the men got a good look at Baker's frontside. Full pecs., a thick torso with a hint of six-pack abs peeking through some baby fat, and a hard, six-inch, beer-can of a cock that curved upwards with heavy, large balls.
Suddenly, the men saw the naked kid freeze, dumbfounded and clearly horrified when a huge, black cock flopped out from the same hole Baker had dumped his load in prior. The cocky jock had never heard his girlfriends complain about his cock, and sure, the playful jock knew how to use its upward curvature on a wet pussy like an expert. And it's not like Baker was shy around naked guys - he was in locker rooms and showers with his teammates all the time and had seen plenty of big black cocks. But another man's erect penis... the 19-year-old was stunned and instantly overwhelmed with dread. His head spun wildly. He couldn't wrap his jock brain around what might have happened... did a guy suck my cock? Baker couldn't breathe, but he couldn't look away.
The sight of an engorged, 10-inch cock, veiny and thick, rock-hard and dripping wet, shocked and stupefied the straight quarterback. It was so long, so fat, so greasy; all the men watched as Baker slowly reached out, seeing the kid's clearly-trembling hand and fingers hesitantly wrap around the black cock. Sounds of men stroking became louder, more vigorous, but Baker didn't hear any of it. Feeling the hot girth of another man for the first time, feeling that big black cock flex in his hand, Baker instinctively gripped his own still-rigid cock. A deep, unsolicited groan escaped Baker's quaking throat: The difference was pathetic.
The men watched the naked kid slowly drop to his knees, and a few with a good view can still see the horror and dumb dismay on Baker's face. Was it disgust? Or lust? Baker was oblivious to the mad, flapping sounds of masturbation escalating all around him, and even the old man at the counter sat up and began stroking when, on his little, soundless night-light surveillance camera screen, Baker - still with his backwards cap and sweaty, naked body practically glowing white amidst all the darkness on screen - tentatively wrap his straight boy, virgin lips around the fat, mushroom head of that big black cock.
...
Baker sat behind his steering wheel off the side of the road. He'd gotten dressed as quickly as he could, practically running out of the sex shop. There were a few more people browsing in the shop now, but Baker drew his cap down low and hid behind his hood. He didn't see the old man wink at him, nor did he hear a few whistles and a gravely voice whisper "good boy!" as he rushed out, nor did he realize he was barefoot until he got in his car and had driven off - he'd left his flip flops behind. And boxers.
The 19-year-old was on the verge of tears when he pulled over a few minutes later, slamming his hands on the steering wheel over and over again as he choked back tears of shame and regret. He couldn't believe what had just happened. The smell of another man lingered in his nostrils. Baker could still feel the sheer girth of the big black cock in his hand as he gripped the steering wheel. The taste of that cock lingered on his lips and tongue... the unshakable memory of what just happened...
That big black cock had started pumping into Baker hand as soon as his lips wrapped around the head. Baker couldn't believe he did that... in a trance, he did everything that low, baritone voiced instructed him to do from behind the wall...
"Lick it."
"Stroke it."
"Harder."
"Lick all of it."
"All of it.
"Get it nice and wet."
"All of it... tip to base."
"Clean my balls."
"Get it nice and clean."
"Keep stroking."
"Faster."
"Suck it."
"More."
"Harder."
"Take more."
"Faster."
"More."
"Deeper."
"Lick it."
"Stroke it."
"Faster."
"Suck it."
"Deeper."
"Faster."
"Deeper!"
"DEEPER!"
"FASTER!"
"DEEPER!"
"ALL OF IT! ALL OFIT!"
A few of the spying men shot their loads watching this fit college athlete slobber messily all over that big black cock, gagging on it, licking it, sucking on those big black balls, choking on that big cock over and over until, from their vantage point, he'd managed to swallow at least half of that cock without throwing up. A few of the men held on to their orgasms, still waiting for their turns and seeing tears trickle down Baker's cheeks as he gagged and choked. Every inch of His baby face was covered in his own drool.
Baker was oblivious to the raucous the other men were making around him; he didn't hear their moans, the splatter of cum on floor and wall, their jeers of GOOD BOY's, ATTABOY's, TAKE IT, SON's all around him. He could only hear that deep, baritone voice, connected to that big black cock, telling him what to do.
Some men shoved their cocks through other glory holes, hoping Baker would take notice, but the jock was in a zone. Disappointed but not dissuaded, they resumed watching, seeing a fresh coat of sweat form on Baker's naked, dripping body, almost taking pride in seeing Baker get better at sucking cock, at taking more inches down his throat, hearing Baker gag and spit and grunt YES, SIR with every terse instruction coming from his big black cock. The marveled at the jock furiously pumping his own cock, how he naturally arched his glistening back, how big his ass looked in that position, how it flexed and jiggled with every pump of his own cock.
In his car, still trying to catch his breath and calm his heart rate, all Baker could remember was the violent shaking of the wall separating him and that man, whose terse monotonous instructions had devolved into aggressive, abusive shouts and barks of HARDER's, DEEPER's, FASTER's, FAGGOT'S, PUSSY's, SLUT's, WHITE BOY's as he desperately tried to keep up.
Suddenly, that big black cock somehow swelled even thicker and harder. It was shoved so deep down his throat that, as soon as he managed to cough it out, Baker felt the immediate eruption. The first rope of cum hit him in the forehead and nose. The second, on his lips. The third, on his lips and into his mouth. Baker didn't remember that voice telling him to, but somehow he kept sucking that erupting cock, feeling the fourth load hit the back of his throat, then the fifth, until he couldn't swallow any more, only to get the last three or four spurts of cum splattered all over his chest and abs.
Baker didn't remember himself saying YES, SIR at all and could only remember how thick that man's cum was, how it felt dribbling down his face and lips and chin, how enormous each spurt of cum was, how pungent and rank the cum smelled and tasted, how he almost threw up swallowing, how he felt like drowning, how the cum felt splattering on his chest, his abs, on his hands, on his cock.
The other men nearly all came, watching Baker get face fucked like there was no tomorrow. The surprisingly pathetic, whimpering sounds that kid made, how that big cock slammed in the back of his throat over and over and over, how drool continuously dribbled off of his chin, how furiously the kid was stroking his own cock as the face fucking got more and more intense and aggressive, how stunned his face was when cum started erupting from that big black cock, how desperately committed he was to swallow all that cum, how he gagged as cum covered his torso, how obediently he knelt there, sucking every drop dry, how perfect the his body and muscles flexed and contracted as he stroked his own cock with another man's cock, how Baker continued to suck on that big black cock until he whimpered and cried as he shot his own load against the wall.
No. Sitting in his car, Baker didn't even remember jerking himself off, or getting dressed, or the horny cheers from all around him. Or the cum he stepped on with his bare feet when he fled the back room. It was just cum. So much cum. All over him. Coating his mouth, his throat. In his belly. It was still on him. He could smell himself, reeking of saliva, sweat, his and the man's cum. When he licked his lips, there was cum. His tank top was soaked in cum - he must've used it to wipe up before putting it on. He quickly tore off his hoody and tank, realizing somehow he's still hard.
Without thinking, Baker grabbed that cum-soaked tank and inhaled it, right there on the side of the road, and began stroking his sore cock with sheer desperation and frustration, recounting the feeling of that big black cock slamming into his mouth and throat and smelling that man's cum, playing on repeat in his mind that all the abusive and demeaning things that man had shouted at him as he tried and failed to swallow every drop of cum blasting his way.
"FAGGOT!"
"PUSSY!"
"PIG!"
"COCKSUCKER!"
"SLUT!"
"TAKE DADDY'S BIG BLACK COCK! DEEPER!"
"DON'T BE A PUSSY! MORE!"
"DO BETTER, WHITE BOY! KEEP GOING!"
Baker had never jerked himself off like this; it was sheer manic chaos in that driver's seat as he pumped and pumped as hard and as fast as he could, with more and more tears well up as he hate-fucked his own fist while sniffing that cummy tank top. How that man had berated him towards the end. How he just took it... all of it. Willingly. How hard his cock still is, how turned on he is reliving every moment on his knees...
"UGNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNNN!!!" Baker cried out as he shot his third load of the hour all over the steering wheel and his belly. He cursed at himself, screamed at himself all the derogatory words that man had used on him, refusing to stop pumping his cock despite wincing from the raw, painful aching of his shaft and balls, so desperate to get every drop out once and for all. When his cock and balls could finally give no more, rubbed so raw it hurt with every throb, drained and still completely in shock and exhausted, Baker finally broke down, burying his face into that cummy tank top and sobbing uncontrollably. He had just realized he wanted to go back for more. A new addiction.
To be continued...
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