Disclaimer: This story is complete and utter fantasy, and should in no way be believed to say anything definitive about the characters involved, their sexual orientation, or their personal desires. It is 100% about the author thinking that this scenario would be fucking HOT. You should also realize by now that in a fantasy world, everyone is always safe from disease and disfigurement. We do not live in a fantasy world, so do with that knowledge what you will.
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Championship Celebrations
Chapter 1C: Eagles "D" Piling On (includes light bondage and golden showers)
(Sorry it has taken me so long to write this one. Hope you enjoy.)
Author's Note: This series of stories will (hopefully) be updated periodically with stories resulting from various sports championships. Not just football, but basketball, baseball, and maybe even tennis and golf. Possibly collegiate as well as professional.
Prologue
He had put the inevitable off for as long as he could, hoping they would give up on it and let it slide. He should have known better, of course. Just like he should have known better than to put the possibility out there in the first place.
The drive into Philadelphia had been miserable, not only had the weather been cold and wet and crappy for t he entire journey, but he found himself completely incapable of making himself believe that the coiled tension coursing through his body was because he was delivering himself into a situation that he didn't want. The frustration of the trip rose higher inside him with every text, seeking a status update, from his former teammate.
Scratch that. The frustration of the trip rose higher up inside him solely because each text from his former teammate sent an electric jolt straight to his undrained, jock encased nuts.
Undrained because he had been told that he was not allowed to cum for three full days. Jock encased because he had been told to wear the one he had been wearing when he had been defeated. When he told his former teammate that he had already washed it, he had been instructed to wear it, and work out in it, for the three days he was not allowed to cum. By the time he hit the exit he had been told to take, the interior of his sports car was ripe with jock smell. He would never admit that that was the reason he was half hard for the last 70 or so miles of the journey.
And he hated the smirking assuredness of his former teammate as he was being strapped into the sling in the backroom of a nondescript and vacant commercial building. He had, fleetingly, hoped that Chris Long might keep this from getting too far out of hand, but the former Patriot and current Eagle was showing far too much twisted joy at Tom Brady's current situation.
The five Eagle defenders had all been naked and in varying states of arousal when Tom had entered the room, the Patriot signal caller unable to judge in his mind the heft and length and girth these men would carry once they were all fully hard and using him. As he had stripped himself down to the rank, moist jock strap, he had cast furtive glances around the room at them, hoping to see sings of them being impressed, desperate to register any kind of awe in their eyes as they witnessed his self sacrifice. The fact that none was forthcoming, and that that acceptance sent a jolting shock through his cock and balls was a realization about himself that Tom Brady tried fruitlessly to cover up, to bury deep.
He hoped against hope that the shivering vibrations running through his body were unnoticed by the five, now all nearly fully hard, Eagles.
He was Tom FUCKING Brady! This is NOT the way these men should be reacting in the lead up to this moment. What he was offering these men was a fucking privilege, and they were treating it as a fucking right!
That it was, actually, a right and that they had more than earned in Minneapolis sent a quivering wave rolling through his gut that he could not convince himself was nausea.
Part 1
Looking around the room now as he made his way to the sling, trying for a look of defiance and knowing he failed miserably, he saw the men looking back at him, smirking. DE's Brandon Graham and Chris Long, LB's Kamu Grugier-Hill and Mychal Kendricks, and CB Jalen Mills. Their cocks all heavily hung, nutsacks obviously overloaded and ready to breed, their bodies glistening with a fine glow of sweat. More than half a ton of jock muscle ready to use him. Well over three feet of jock cock ready to fuck his quarterback ass into oblivion.
As Chris Long took hold of his throwing arm to pull him back into the sling, Tom Brady realized two things almost simultaneously. One, there was no way that anybody in the room could miss the sudden spread of goose flesh racing across his upper body at the touch of Chris' hand. Two, that his seven inch cock was painfully, fully hard in the sweaty jock, and would be undeniable the second his back hit the leather straps of the sling.
He tried to shake those thoughts out of his head, but only managed to send another jolt to his nuts as he plastered a gaping look of drunkenness onto his face. Catching the shift in the look Mychal Kendricks was giving him, Brady knew what was coming even before the linebacker opened his mouth.
"You just go ahead and try to show us you don't want this, Tommy. Everybody in this room knows it ain't true. And you know better than anyone else you ain't gonna be able to walk outta here believing it yourself."
The sound of the linebacker's growling declaration, coupled with the barely noticeable chuckle from Chris Long near his ear seemed to grab the quarterback's gut in a vice and then twist. The bead of pre-cum pulsing through the mesh of his jock caught the light accusingly as Tom Brady let his head fall back, his arms now strapped firmly in as his former teammate moved to secure his legs.
The humid air of the room sweeping across his taint and hole as they were raised and pulled apart sent another shock to his nuts, another pulse of pre-cum to moisten the already damp jock pouch. The pressure of warm flesh along his shoulder drew his gaze quickly to the right., his field of vision overwhelmed by the sleek muscle of a man's lower abdominals, punctuated by the sharply etched bones of the pelvis, and on along to a massive ten inch cock. Tom Brady's tongue flickered along his lower lip before he could stop it, the chuckle from above spread a blush of embarrassment across most of his upper body. Jerking to shift his gaze away from the proudly engorged jock shaft, he met the smiling face of Jalen Mills as the cornerback shook his head slightly.
It was the last thing Brady saw as the blindfold was placed over his eyes. The clinking of the buckle securing it coincided with the buckling of the last restraint around his other leg. Tom Brady was completely and utterly helpless. He actually felt every bit of the journey as the next pulse of pre-cum oozed it's way out of his cock head.
For several long, anxiety inducing minutes nothing happened. The Patriot quarterback was aware only of the breathing of the five men standing around him, his own breathing, and the dull, steady pulsing of his own hard cock, trapped as it was under the ever dampening mesh of his sweaty jock. Occasionally, he thought he detected movement among the circling Eagles. Several times he tried to discern whether he was feeling a whisper of a touch by one of them, or if it was merely the humid air moving around him. The sound of someone near or maybe between his legs hawking to gather a wad of spit tore through the silent room in the fleeting second before he felt it hit precisely on it's intended target. The contact sent a seizure like motion rocketing through his body as he felt it slide down along his taint, over his jock hole, and dropping onto the floor, the soft chuckles of the five other men should have pissed him off, as it was he couldn't even manage to be angry at the betrayal of his own body as his cock gave a violent pulse inside it's mesh prison.
The slight sharpness of a fingernail tracing over his quivering pucker sent another series of vibrations through his body, the rough feel of a fingertip gliding across a nipple brought with it a realization of how painfully hard they were, and had probably been since before he had taken off his shirt. Now it's twin was pinched violently between another man's thumb and forefinger, eliciting a grunt of pain that infuriatingly finished as something more like a moan of pleasure. The palm of a large, rough hand slid up his inner thigh with painful slowness, it's thumb tracing tantalizingly along the edge of his jock's pouch where it met the sensitive skin there. Another finger slid, feather light, along his lower lip, making contact with his tongue as he let his mouth open involuntarily. When that finger slid deeper into his mouth, even as his lips closed around it, Brady began lightly sucking at it, whimpering around it even before he fully realized what he was doing.
The digits trailing around the edges of his jock hole stopped their furtive motions, and then were quickly slipped into him with only the last feeble drops of spit for lube. The quarterback found himself sucking harder on the finger still in his mouth, reflexively tracing his tongue over and around the surface of it as he continued moaning. Another hand reached to his ass, palm flattening on the muscular glute and pulling it away, a spit soaked thumb powering it's way into him alongside the two other digits. Brady was sure that it was two different men currently digging into his ass. He knew for certain that they had to both be feeling his clutching channel along the lengths of their digits, knew what he was revealing about himself in this moment, and would have been terrified of it if the lips and teeth had not clamped around one of his aching nipples. Had not the finger in his mouth been withdrawn, only to be replaced immediately with a massive set of jock nuts the second he had thought to open his mouth in protest.
The strong, musky aroma of the sweaty Eagle nutsack being lowered onto his searching tongue sent Tom Brady that much farther along the road from the point of acceptance of his current circumstance and closer to an acknowledgment of the base need he had always been able to keep buried before. The nutsack in his mouth muffled his scream of pain when the clamping, scraping lips and teeth were removed from his achingly hard nipple, only to have the cold, sharp feel of metal clamp down hard on both it and it's twin. The twisted laughing coming from the Eagles surrounding him were punctuated by another finger driving it's way into his ass, the pressure against his side telling him that this had to be a third man digging his way into the helpless quarterback snatch.
The body above him began to pull and shift away, moving the tasty, sweaty nutsack from his mouth, the unseen man's hands turning his head to the other side, even as Brady felt the body moving the opposite way. A massively thick, uncut cock spread his lips wide as his face was fucked full with a dizzying suddenness. The quarterback thought for a second that it was Chris Long fucking his face, but the smoothness of his face fucker's pubic bone put that thought to rest when it crashed against his face. Long must be one of the three men currently finger fucking him. As the cock in his mouth set up a steady rhythm of throat fucking, two wads of spit were hawked onto his quivering hole, easing slightly the pain of the digital ravaging, allowing the fingers inside him to now be used to pry him apart, opening him wider for their perverted use. With a practiced, fluid motion, his face was ripped away from the throat ravaging cock in the same second that one was crammed inside his still digitally impaled snatch. Three strong fingers held his jock hole wide as the thick, hard, dry cock tore through his sphincter and buried itself inside him. His scream of pain at the tearing harshness of the entry was choked off as his head was swung forcefully to the other side, and another cock claimed his throat.
The scratching burn of the fur rasping along his inner thighs and grinding against his taint told him that his fucker had to be his former teammate. Brady had seen before the fiery pink flesh of his teammate's inner thighs after they had taken a ride on Long's thick fuck shaft. The nearly bloody, almost rug burned flesh of both Edelman and Amendola that had driven both men to try to beg off when Tom had come for his turn, the tell tale scratches that appeared periodically around Gronk's lips and over his chin, telling Tom that the DE had throat fucked the doofy TE without mercy. The quarterback felt his cock pulse dangerously as the furry pubes of his fucker ground harder against his smooth taint. Felt his balls tighten against the base of his achingly hard seven incher as the stud began to pull back away from him.
Felt a groan escape around the cock in his mouth when he realized whoever was face fucking him had only just bottomed out deep in his throat. This face fucker had to be Jalen Mills. No one else in the room had had anything like his length, and had also all appeared notably thicker than the cornerback, still the 6'1" 24 year old had a massively flaring cock head crowning his ten inch shaft, a cock head that was currently running rough shod over Brady's gag reflex. A cock head that seemed to be oozing pre-cum in a constant stream, somewhat salving the ravaged throat, tempting the quarterback to swallow, his throat muscles working and releasing along the long, long shaft drawing a deep moan from the face fucking Eagle.
Chris Long continued power fucking Tom Brady's tight jock ass, driving hard into the man before ripping himself nearly all the way out again. Raking his eyes up along his former teammate's body, he watched Jalen Mills and Brandon Graham taking turns on his pouting, gaping mouth. The lithe conerback and the beefy thick defensive end moving the quarterback's head like a rag doll between them as they tag teamed his throat. Shaking the sweat off his brow as he continued piledriving his way it and out of Brady's ass, Long looked at his other two teammate's. Mychal Kendicks pulled on the chain attached to the tightly clamping alligator clips attached to Tom's nipples, the linebacker's eight inch cock pulsing at the sight of the quarterback's body being rocked by the sensory overload. On the other side of the sling, Kamu Grugier-Hill had one big hand clamped tight over Brady's jock encased nutsack. Long knew that the younger linebacker had a god given talent for just nearly crushing a guys nuts, having lost a bet that the 23 year old would not be able to get him off just by manipulating his balls. That time Long had come a second time in less than an hour as Kamu had powerfucked his own thick nine incher up the DE's tight ass. A thick nine incher that was now bobbing and weaving in the open air as the youngest Eagle in the room continued to elicit sharp moaning gasps from the quarterback's cock stuffed lips with his sadistic ball handling. The twisted grin spread across Kamu's face as he carried on with his task drove Chris to fuck harder and harder into Tom's tightly clutching ass.
The four other Eagles in the room did their best to divide their attentions between the responses ripping through Brady's body, and the piledriving fuck Long was throwing into it. Chris had told them all he was going to cum quick at the start, he had been looking forward to this for too fucking long to last very long at the beginning, but knew too, that he would have a second load for the quarterback. Kendricks and Graham recognized the signs of Long's impending orgasm, having seen it close up before as he had fucked each of them. The linebacker grabbed the defensive ends head, and pulled it closer, crashing their lips together as Chris' thrusts became staccato, the two stud's wrestled their tongues together for a few seconds before Kendricks pulled away and then forced Chris over toward his fellow linebacker, watching Kamu sink into the bliss of Chris Long grunting through his pounding orgasm. The DE's body twisted and crashed against the quarterback's as shot after shot of jock sperm flooded into Tom Brady's jock ass. Kamu Grugier-Hill was laughing into Chris Long's mouth at the sight of it all, the kiss slid into something deeper, something with considerably more meaning as Chris slipped a hand loosely along the back of the 23 year old's neck before he started to pull away.
Mychal Kendricks gave his fellow linebacker a high sign nod to take over for Long as the DE started to pull out of the cum soaked quarterback ass. Brandon Graham moved away from Brady's face to take up the on deck position. Jalen Mills pulled his cock out of the quarterback's mouth and held his head in position as he moved to the other side. Kendricks, still holding the chain for the nipple clamps slipped his wide cockhead between Brady's lips, chuckling and lightly yanking on the chain as the quarterback began reflexively suckling at the jock shaft. The first load firing up his ass had seemed to slow things down a bit, had seemed to take the edge off as he nursed lazily at the cock in his mouth, torn between whether it would be better to clench his ass tight, trying to hold Long's massive load inside him, or relaxing and letting it slip out of his ass, freeing it to run along his crack.
As Kamu Grugier-Hill moved into Chris' position, the defensive end moved to take up Mychal's spot, only to be stopped by the tight clasp of Kamu's fist on his cock. The younger linebacker gripped the sensitive shaft tightly, dragging his rough palm up the length of the still nearly hard shaft to gather the dregs of Long's load, the younger man held the gaze of the older as he smeared the cum along his own shaft. Long's smile widened as the two men moved into their new spots.
Part 2
For his part, Tom Brady had not fully realized the ache that Chris' cock had left behind until he felt a strong and steady pressure against his legs as a new man slipped himself in between them. All five of the Eagle studs laughed at the sight below them as the Patriot signal caller desperately, instinctually, tried to shift his ass onto the next cock in line. The QB was so dazed in his own base lust that it took him some time to realize that what they were laughing at was his pathetic attempts to somehow swing the sling in a way that would allow his next bull to access his needy jock hole. In spite of his need, Brady felt the flash of anger burning on his cheeks and spreading across his chest, he knew that his skin was showing the hot reddish pink of his infamous petulance to the more powerful men surrounding him.
And yet.
Even as he let that wash over him to the point where he started to choke out a grunt that he hoped would sound somehow assertive, the overheated cock deep in his throat was unceremoniously ripped free, allowing the desperately angry scream to die in his throat as it turned into a pleading moan as Kamu's powerful cock slammed it's way through his winking ass lips, sinking deep into his greedy snatch in a single tearing, jarring stroke. Nine fat inches of Eagle cock plowed it's way through a copious wad of jock cum that had been deposited less than a minute before, squelching a fair amount back out as the quarterback's ass welcomed it's ravaging power. The grunt of anger continued to slide into a long moan of desire even as his head was turned once again and impaled on the long, proudly crowned cock of Jalen Mills. Even as he sucked eagerly at the younger man's length, the cock on the other side of his face was slapped hard along his cheek and jaw. Fingers tangled in his short hair, gripping painfully to pull him back away from the base of the throat fucking spear before being slammed mack against the smooth pubic bone of his face fucker. The big, powerful hands of his bull dug deep and hard into his well secured and widely spread thighs as he was fucked deep and hard by the thick shaft.
The full weight of the moment dawned slowly as Brady realized the men using him were not really even moving themselves. The two tightly gripping hands working over his jock encased cock and balls were not in any way squeezing or releasing around him. The digging crush of the hands on his thighs were merely holding tight to his bruising flesh, and along with the hand digging painfully into his scalp, yanking his head back and forth along the massive throat raping cock was being used only to move him.
He, Tom Brady, one of (if not the) greatest quarterbacks of all time was being used as nothing more than a fuck puppet by five powerful rutting beasts. He had been reduced to nothing more than a vessel. A shell whose only possible purpose was to take in and absorb bull Eagle semen.
Kamu Grugier-Hill and Jalen Mills felt the change first, probably even before the quarterback himself fully acknowledged it, as the body impaled on their cocks slipped into a deeper and more complete acceptance. The clutch in Brady's spincter was smoother, more eager to assist in milking the cock running roughshod over and through it. The Patriot's tongue snaked more avidly along the shank of jock meat battering the back of his throat. The desperate moans turned to whimpers emanating from the spit roasted fuck slut. The other three men in the room saw the 40 year old's body relax into the action as his muscles unclenched and his cock throbbed inside it's mesh prison. Kamu felt the tightening grip working his shaft, desperate to milk the cum forth and absorb the essence of the rutting man power driving over his prostate.
"Bitch is gonna blow his nut!"
The cry echoed around the room as the five Eagles trained their sight on Brady's wildly pulsing jock pouch. Chris Long found himself to be back to full hardness as he watched the blasts of cum pulse out through the sweaty, dank mesh, counting five powerful blasts of the bitch load before bending over to vacuum as much as possible into his own drooling mouth, holding the elixir on his tongue. Mychal Kendricks realized too late that in his desperation to sink his own cock into the quarterback's mouth that he had pulled Tom's head away from Jalen's cock at the worst possible moment for his teammate. Three massive, powerful blasts of cum flooded onto Brady's face as Jalen Mills reached his first orgasm of the day, the quarterback's tongue wagged in a desperate attempt to swallow something other than air.
Seeing what he had done, Kendricks swooped low to suck the last of his teammate's load direct from the source before beginning to lap the rest off Tom Brady's face. Having gathered most of the creamy, tangy cum, he mashed his lips hard against the quarterback's, slipping his cum covered tongue roughly inward to transfer most of the load to where it belonged. Brady's moan into his mouth was one of desperate gratitude and continued even as the linebacker began to move around the quarterback's head to the other side. Pulling away and rising up, eager to sink his cock back into the talented throat, Kendricks was met with a welcome interruption.
Chis Long moved quickly off of and away from Brady's packed jock pouch and opened his mouth as he moved closer to the quarterback's lips. The other men in the room saw a first trickle of the frothy spit/cum cocktail drip into Brady's mouth before Long clamped himself against the Patriot's puffy and bruised lips. Kamu Grugier-Hill barely had time to pull himself free of the milking jock snatch as he watched his stud teammate snowballing the quarterback's own load back into his mouth. Brandon Graham moved into position, power driving his way into Brady's still milking snatch with barely a beat missed. The quarterback groaned into his former teammate's mouth at the harder, sharper intrusion of the rock hard and iron hot cock. The groan turned into a long, low moan as Long pulled away from the still searching lips and tongue.
"That last was yours, buddy."
The pervertedly thankful gasp from the quarterback was choked off as Chris Long turned Tom Brady's head away from him, and Mychal Kendricks drove his shaft into the wildly salivating throat. Brandon Graham checked his stroke, holding himself a split second before driving in perfect rhythm with his teammate. The sharp, powerful, bone etched groins of Graham and Kendricks slammed hard against Brady's sweaty flesh as the sound of the joint impalement echoed around the room.
The two men impaling him began to slowly shift their positions even as they continued driving themselves deeply, intoxicatingly into him. Then, with a suddenness that was dangerously disorienting, Brady felt the already tenuous support beneath him slip quickly away. It took him even a few more seconds to realize that he was still suspended after the dizzying feeling of falling had stopped. What had come quicker to him was that the cock in his mouth had been removed and that the men nearest his head were moving into different positions.
When the blunt, leaking crown of cock touched his lips, he found that it was only his head that had lost it's support. As he let his lips part, eager to be nursing once again at Eagle stud meat, he realized the implications of this new positioning. Tom Brady recognized the cock now raping his throat as belonging to Chris Long as much by the tangy, musky aroma of the man's sweat as by the wildly scratching pubes now mashing against his upper lip and chin. The fact that his former teammate was leaning over him was confirmed the the stinging, steaming drops of jock sweat dripping onto his upper torso and throat. Any lingering doubts about the power of any of these Eagle bulls was snuffed out as Long and Graham began yanking at the sling, rocking back and forth between them hard so that the quarterback's body was more like a small boat being swung between massive ocean waves.
The entirety of the Patriot's body was moving relentlessly fore and aft between two equally powerful cocks as his impalement ratcheted up yet another few notches. Eight plus rock hard inches of jock cock drove into and slipped away from his body as he was moved at their mercy and their mercy only. Jalen and Kamu were as surprised as the fuck slut as they gripped at and nearly crushed his still achingly hard and pulsing cock and nutsack. Mychal Kendicks continuted yanking on the chain in his unrelenting grip, digging the clamps tighter and harder into the quarterback's diamond hard nipples. Moving with a practiced precision, Kendricks and Long tag teamed Brady's throat, reveling in the pressure of his increasing moans as Grugier-Hill and Mills sank their long, rough fingers into the eager jock cunt in turn, sliding in along Graham's still hard driving shaft as the stud DE fucked the whimpering quarterback.
The two finger fucking Eagles felt the swelling of Graham's cock at the same time as the bitched out QB did. Long and Kendricks caught sight of the eroding rhythm of their teammate's fuck strokes in the last few seconds before the roar ripped from the rutting bulls chest and reverberated around the over heated rankness of the temporary fuck den. The already amply thick shaft swelled to nearly impossible girth before it began pulsing out it's load of jock scum deep into the legendary quarterback ass.
Four massive pulses of jock spew soothed the battered tissues of his ravaged ass even as the wildly digging fingers alongside the powerful shaft helped to churn it around inside him. The tearing free of that cock from his clutching hole brought forth a cum laden belch that would have embarrassed him if he had the ability to feel anything anymore, beyond the need to be humiliated by these stud jocks. The shifting around his head, the removal of the throat raping cock at that end was followed by something new. Something that he had only ever done as a sense of duty whenever he had used Edelman or Amendola.
The sharper, duskier tang of the sweat washing over his wildly searching tongue shifted something inside him he didn't ever know was possible as he found his head being yanked up once again by the hair forcing his lips to clamp around a moist and winking asshole, his tongue driving inward on instinctual need. The coppery, acrid taste of a commanding, controlling jock ass grinding and sliding over his million dollar face, his abject hunger only heightened by the invasion of yet another massive Eagle cock tearing through his nearly ruined jock cunt.
Part 3
The depravity of the scene should have disquieted the man watching it from a dark corner of the room, instead it brought forth a steady, vibrating hum up from his overloaded nuts and along his long, achingly hard cock. He allowed himself a few tentative rubs of his palm over the sweatpants covered shaft as he watched his legendary foe slip further and further into debasement. Seeing his defensive teammates using this prideful, arrogant man...watching them turn him into a quivering, mewling bitch for their use...brought a twisted and sinful smile to his lips.
Chris Long yanked up hard at the short cropped hair, forcing Brady's tongue and lips tighter and deeper against the sweaty ass of Kamu Grugier-Hill. Brandon Graham slammed his full, and nearly still hard, cock sharply against one of the quarterback's already tortured and still painfully clamped nipples. Mychal Kendricks continued working the chain in his hand, digging the metal teeth of those clamps deeper into the nearly torn and angrily pink nubs. Jalen Mills sank his long sleek shaft deep and hard into the gaping jock cunt that had fought, briefly but valiantly, against it's first impalement less than an hour ago, and was now vacuuming jock cock eagerly, greedily, deep into it. The sling continued to be shifted between the man riding the handsome face and the cock power fucking into the smallish but muscular jock ass.
The silent witness was glad to see Kendricks accelerate the action as the thickly muscled linebacker slipped to long, thick fingers deep into the muscular bubble butt of Jalen Mills, his grin widened as he saw the initial balking at the invasion, before the younger man let himself slip easily between the clutching jock cunt of the ruined quarterback and the digging, fucking digits of the linebacker.
Mychal himself was loving watching his teammate fuck the bitch quarterback, so much so that he knew if he didn't speed things up, he was going to dump his own load well before he even started pressing against Brady's greedy, clutching jock ass that he had to start diddling his teammate's own muscular ass. He knew from experience that virtually any contact with Mills jock hole while he was buried balls deep in another jock snatch would drive the younger man over the edge quicker than he may have wanted, but would also cause that much more powerful of an orgasm. The linebacker knew he had made the right decision when his teammate turned, heavy lidded, toward him.
"More, Mychal...give me more!"
Kendricks sank a third finger deep into his teammate, feeling the younger man's body began to vibrate and shake against his own even as Mills continued to steadily, powerfully fuck deep into Brady's milking ass. Feeling the tightening along his fingers as it came in wave after wave, Mychal knew that Jalen was spewing his seed deep into the quarterback where it mingled eagerly along with Long's and Graham's earlier loads.
Kamu pulled his ass of Tom's face and swung around quickly, driving his scary thick nine inch cock deep into the quarterback's mouth and throat, even as Jalen dragged his ten inch shaft quickly out of the jock's cunt. As the throat fucking stud above him power fucked his face, a fifth new cock tore through his ass lips and sank deep inside him. Brady was surprised at the wave of melancholy sweeping over him at the thought that this ravaging gang fuck was apparently nearing an end. The bone crashing thrusts into him had long ago turned from torturous pain to welcomed, humiliating pleasure. The desire coursing through his veins was decidedly nowhere near sated. The only thing the quarterback could think at this point was that he didn't want this to end. That he needed to continue to be used, violently and unrelentingly, by these men.
The driving thickness of the cock in his cunt drove him higher and higher as it churned the three loads of jock cum already inside him. Nearly his entire being was centered on milking the next load of bull jock cum into his thrillingly, beautifully sore and ravaged guts. The rest of his being concentrated it's desire on the massive thick shaft tearing into his raw throat, hoping like mad to be fed it's virile jock load. The bliss washed over him as both cocks began to swell and pulse bigger and thicker still inside him, even as the jock gods those cocks were attached to continued fucking deep into and tearing powerfully away from his greedy mouth and snatch.
The silent witness rose and moved toward the rutting mass before him, hitching his sweatpants under his full and churning nutsack and raising his shirt from the front to hook it over and behind his head. He got a thrilling burst of pride as he registered the awe in his teammate's eyes at the sight of his foot long cock. He drank in the sight of the thickly muscular ass of Mychal Kendricks as it clutched and released with each fuck thrust deep into Tom Brady's ass. The hard slapping thuds of Brandon Graham's, Chris Long's and Jalen Mills' cocks as the three studs beat their bottom jock bitch with over two feet of combined cock sent a profound vibration rocketing around his fevered and horny mind. The wet, viscous slurping of Brady's lips and tongue eagerly milking at Kamu Grugier-Hill's proud, thick, face fucking cock sent a jolting pulse rocketing along the length of his shaft.
Mychal Kendricks pulled out and moved away from Tom Brady's cunt, nodding to sixth Eagle to take his place.
"You didn't cum yet" the silent witness finally spoke.
"Nah, man...wanna shoot on his worthless cock when you breed him."
The four other Eagles in the room smiled as they watched the tremor course through their teammate's long, lean, impossibly well hung body.
Tom Brady barely registered the shifting of the other men's bodies as he continued nursing eagerly at the cock head resting now on his tongue, desperate that one of the pulses coursing through the flesh would soon feed him the load he so greedily desired. The cock of his fifth bull top was sliding pleasingly back inside him, the familiar thickness lulling him into a sense of accomplishment before he realized, far too late, that something was different.
The shaft continued it's long fuck stroke for far too long, the bluntness of the head was disorientingly unfamiliar, the grip on his thighs was somehow softer even while it was more insistent. The cock kept sinking slowly into him, drawing a series of deep, guttural moans from deep within him to vibrate along the few inches of jock cock still dancing along his tongue. The tenor of the room had completely changed. The hand slipping under to cup his head was almost cradling it. The cock in his mouth was removed gently instead of being torn free. The heavy beating of the other four cocks slapping along his torso and throat ceased.
His head was raised up and the blindfold removed almost reverently, but even then the sharpness of being exposed to the light so suddenly fucked with his mind in a way that threatened a complete break with reality. Above him, the long, leanly muscled frame of Nick Foles was ringed in a halo of bright white fluorescence as his fellow quarterback continued to slide inside him. The protest that he had not agreed to this died on his lips as the last two inches of Foles obscenely massive cock ground itself into his now thoroughly ruined cunt. Any rational thought he might have had left withered as he watched, almost frightened, as Nick's leering, twisted grin curdled into a look of nearly demonic lust. Watching the 6'6" stud rise to full height above him somehow made the not that much shorter Brady shrink nearly to nothingness. Feeling the massive cock slip slowly back through his ass on the back stroke hammered home the debasement these men had so deftly put him through.
As the blunt tipped crown of his fellow QB's cock stopped it's withdrawal just inside his puffy jock cunt, his head was quickly released to drop back, the startled gasp choked off as Kamu Grugier-Hill's cock was once again slipped between his lips. The cocks paused there, holding position for a few fleeting seconds before the two men crashed forward from opposite directions, impaling Tom Brady fore and aft with a crushing force that made everything before seem like the gentlest of carresses.
And even as he tried to work up a protest somehow, Tom Brady slipped into the glory of being nothing more than a pair of holes to be used by stronger and more powerful men. If his throat and jock cunt had been greedy in their milking before, they were now also powerfully eager in their need to be fed and bred. Where the heavy, thudding slaps of hard jock flesh had before been bruising in their steady rhythm, they now also rose goose bumps on his sweaty, overheated flesh. Where before his reactions to these men had been informed by what his body wanted, they were now ruled by a cold, desperate need that threatened to remake him completely.
His body, battered and used as it was, floated thrillingly in the midst of the shifting sling that supported it as his aching cunt was painfully, powerfully impaled, only to then have it ripped back and nearly out of his body as the obscenely thick shaft at his face threatened to suffocate him on each of it's own throat fucking strokes. Somewhere in the midst of it all was the knowledge that his cock had never been harder than it was now under the insistent, squeezing grip of the hand covering it. The aching pain in his overloaded nuts as they were twisted and nearly crushed under another man's tightly choking grasp did nothing to change the fact that Tom Brady was about tot shoot the biggest single load of his life, even as that pain continued to ratchet up, inspiring a wave of nausea to well up in his gut.
And still the men fucking him at each end continued to drive harder and harder into him. Continued to tear themselves more and more wildly nearly back out of him.
To his dying day, Tom Brady will swear that he felt the collective roar of his bulls before he actually heard it.
Two hugely hung men crashed deeply into his ruined jock bitch body as their cocks swelled to even more obscene proportions. The cock in his raw, ruined throat spewed forth it's initial blast of cum, soothing him momentarily even as it swelled and spewed again and again, stretching his already puffy, bruised lips with each drowning shot. The metal clamps tearing at his tits dug in deeper still, threatening to rip his nipples clean off as the chain connecting them was suddenly pulled in opposing directions. The hands pulverizing his desperate cock and aching nuts squeezed tighter still for the briefest of seconds before releasing him.
The Patriot quarterback felt his first blast of cum rocket along his cock as the Eagle quarterback's first blast pulsed out deep inside his bloodied bowels. Foles blasted five more shots of championship cum into Brady's cunt as Brady himself fired off seven powerful blasts of his own, forcing it's way through the mesh of his (now considered very lucky) jock strap. As the cock in his throat was once again ripped away from him, he felt Eagle cum, hot and slick, raining down on him from either side. And tried desperately, futilely to raise his head wishing to see as much of the final act of his debasement as possible, only to dejectedly give up before the next wave of hot liquid hit his body. Clamping his lips tight against the flow from above him, disbelieving of what was happening at first, Brady felt the hot spray of the piss of two men washing over him and mingling with the cum that had anointed him courtesy of the other three. He couldn't even feel disgusted with himself as his tongue slipped between his lips to meet the flow from above as it flowed down along his face and into his hair.
Something like a sense of accomplishment, maybe even pride, washed over him as he registered the mellow heat of the piss on his searching tongue, and the strangely cooling sensation of it over saturating his already soaked and rank jock strap, the combination of the depraved sensations sent two more delayed pulses of cum from his balls, only to be washed away unnoticed by the other men.
The flow had stopped, the massive quarterback cock of Nick Foles had slipped from deep inside him, long before his tongue slipped back between his lips and he let his head droop once again, hanging back off his shoulders at the end of his thrillingly aching neck. He sensed the men around him dressing themselves slowly and shuffling their way quietly out the door he had come through barely more than an hour and a half before. One wrist was quickly and assuredly freed from it's restraint, and he heard his former teammate's voice, low and quiet at his ear.
"You can get the rest of the buckles yourself. The door will lock itself when you leave."
As Tom Brady heard Chris Long move away from him, startled by the heavy slam of the door shutting behind him, the sharp reek of piss and sweat and cum came into ball tingling focus as they merged on his nose. Even the ache deep in his bones, in his every muscle, wasn't enough to make him think this had been anything other than totally worth it.