Drew Henson Takes Command

By Robert Foust

Published on Dec 6, 2004

Gay

Disclaimer: This story does not contain any truthful information about Drew Henson. It is a work of fantasy of the author...would that it were true, but what's a girl to do? Drew was not harmed in the making of this fantasy.

I work for the NFL, not on the field, but in the business side of things. As such, I have had a ring-side seat to do some of the hottest man watching since the gladiators rumbled in the Coliseum in Rome. Well, one of the badest, most dominate (as I recently learned from experience), and best looking fellows that I've been able to get to know is Cowboys quarterback Drew Henson.

I was down in Dallas the week leading up to the Thanksgiving Day game in which Drew was tapped to play by the Cowboys coaches. Needless to say, but the game did not go so well for Drew. After the game, he was pretty broken up about being pulled out of the game by the coaches. He stayed behind long after everyone else had gone home to enjoy what remained of the All-American holiday. Drew began to wonder throughout the sprawling Texas stadium complex and that is where he (literally) ran into me.

I was on a cell phone conference call to get the latest rating numbers for the two traditional Thanksgiving day games when Drew hurriedly turned a corner and sent me and my (brand new) cell phone tumbling. This large man hit me with such force that I was thrown to the floor like a rag doll (and I'm no slouch of a guy). I looked up to this towering gridiron gladiator, who simply glowered down at me.

When I made no attempt to arise, a certain twinkle came into Drew's eyes and he said "You know, I really hate the NFL head-office scum. All you ever do is meddle in what we do, turning this game that we love into a cut-throat business. You assholes sap all the fun out of what should be a pleasurable experience." I remained silent and subservient, kneeling at this man's feet. Drew slapped me, gently, but firmly several times with his huge, rough hands. Drew exuded this aura that I began to drink in from the floor. He looked every bit the total all-American: stunning ice blue eyes, dark chestnut hair, ruggedly handsome face, and a body that was totally built and bulging in all the right places.

"Unzip my jeans, you asshole," brought me back to reality. So I did, feeling a rising hardness in his manhood (not to mention my own) as I unzipped. Drew stepped out of his jeans and shed all of his clothes. I absolutely drank in the picture of this man in front of me: six feet five inches of pure chiseled muscle; just a hint of hair along his broad chest; long powerful arms with forearms the size of a rolled-up Sunday newspaper; long, ripped legs; hell, even his big size fourteen feet were utterly sexy. Most incredibly, however, was the seven inch long, wrist thick monster staring back at me (and gasp! he still wasn't fully wooded yet). He began to slap my cheeks with his not quite-rock hard member, while I gazed up into his ice blue eyes, lost in the lust of the moment.

"You want to suck my dick, you front-office piece of shit?" I vaguely nodded in between smacks from his cock. He took his dick and outlined my lips with his dick crown, leaving a trail of pre-cum around my mouth. I licked my lips and my tongue grazed his cock. Drew shivered in pleasure. He looked down at me and repeated "I asked you a question, bitch: Do you want to suck my dick?" I rolled my eyes, I mean he was dick slapping me, balming my lips with his pre-cum, and he was still asking if I wanted to blow him? A sharp, hot pain forced me to re-orient myself rather quickly.

Another sharp, hot pain proceeded after Drew backhanded me again. I looked up at him pleadingly. Those ice blue eyes began to chill me a little. He said, "Don't make me ask a third time you piece of shit." It was at that point I began to realize that I was here to play a part for a greater purpose. I was in this position for one reason only: to be used by this alpha male as he saw fit, so that he could be a better man and feel better about himself, nothing more.

I responded, "Yes Drew, I would very much like to suck your dick." He backhanded me again. "Don't you even think about calling me by my first name, you ass-clown. You can call me sir." I replied, "Yes, sir. Please allow me to suck your dick." Drew gently stroked his ragingly red cock several times, then plunged his long, think index and middle finger into my mouth. I bathed his fingers as he added a third, then four into my pliant mouth. He removed his sopping fingers and brushed back my tasseled hair, using my spit as the styling product.

Drew commanded, "I am going to fuck the hell out of your mouth, so open wide." And with that he forced my jaw to the stretching point as he thrust into my gaping mouth, feeding me his cock. As he approached my throat, I began to forcefully gag, which pleased Drew to no end. "Yeah, bitch. What if I decided to fucking choke you on my thick-assed dick?" he yelled (sardonically, I hoped). When he finally withdrew, tears were streaming down my face and I was panting to catch my breath. Drew wiped his dick all over my face, covering me in my own spittle and his pre-cum. His dick seemed to grow in girth, and now looked impossibly thick.

Drew dick slapped me again, then held his dick in front of my mouth. I looked up into his eyes and became drunk off his commanding present. I leapt onto his dick which was now approaching nine inches, and swallowed him to the pubes. I began to face fuck myself on his dick, totally losing control in this moment of pleasing this pure alpha male. I lost all track of space and time, focused singularly on this man's thick cock.

Drew eventually pushed me off by my forehead, and said, "Holy shit, but aren't you just the best cocksucker that I have ever had. You really know how to make a man feel good. Now suck my balls, bitch." And I did, relishing every moment. His balls were big, but not overly so. I gave them all my attention, as Drew occasionally dropped his (very heavy) cock onto my face. I moved to the base of his cock and began to bath his body with my tongue. I moved past his cock to his ripped eight-pact. I planned to devour his beautiful nipples perched on his enormous pecks (and maybe decide to make a side excursion to his luscious looking pits), but Drew took over the situation by guiding my mouth back to his cock.

He began to fuck my mouth, throat, and soul with such force that he nearly knocked me off balance with every thrust. His giant forearms and massive hands, which totally encircled my head, were the only things providing me any stability from the overwhelmingly powerful onslaught from his hips. I tore my eyes away from his undulating abs in time to see Drew throw back his head and declare, "Drink me in." His cock exploded with force equal to that of his fucking and with such copious amount that I was not able to swallow all of his sweet cum. His intense orgasm clamed him almost immediately and it seemed that he was beginning to leave his forgettable performance on the field that day in the past. He let his cock soften a bit on my tongue, then withdrew. He used his index and middle finger to wipe up some of the overflow cum and feed it back to me, which I greedily imbibed. He gathered his clothes and re-suited. Before he left, he handed me my phone back and said, "I programmed my number. When you're back in Dallas, we'll do this again." With that he left me on the floor, totally spent, yet totally filled.

Next: Chapter 2


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