Locker Room Banter
This story involves a man's fantasies of sex with a group of assailants. If you do not like that, you might want to look for another story. If you do choose to read this, I hope you enjoy and consider making a donation to keep this site up and running.
A towel around my neck, I nonchalantly follow Dylan into the shower room. My eyes, seemingly staring at nothing in particular, drink in his arse. Definitely the best arse on our team: ridiculously pert, lean and round; a pair of buttocks that could crack the proverbial walnut. Buttocks that sing to me, inviting me to sink to my knees, cup them with both hands and pull them apart so that I can bury my tongue in the tight virgin hole between them.
I sling the towel on a hook. Some of my team mates are already soaking themselves, so I walk past them to an empty shower near the back. No need to stare at their bodies too obviously, as I have registered it all before. Jay: very fine body, but tiny cock. Tom: nice guy, film star-quality face, okay body, big low-hanging balls. Michael: mwah all the way through. Jack: generally pretty pleasant looking. Until a few weeks ago he had a massive tuft of pubic hair, but his girlfriend made him trim it because she didn't like getting hair in her mouth, or so he claims. The new spruced look does seem to have added an inch to his manhood.
In a shared shower some men face the wall, others face the room, I don't need to tell you that I choose to face the room. With water streaming over my head and my hands running through my hair, I can watch the guys without it being conspicuous. Yes, I have seen their bodies dozens of times already, but I still enjoy the sight of water cascading over Dylan's glorious backside like a mountain stream over two submerged boulders; thankfully he tends to face the wall and affords me a magnificent view of them.
I would give my right arm for a wild night with Dylan in my room.
I have to be careful as I watch my teammates. Not just because they might realize I am staring at them lustfully, but also, more so, because there is a clear and present danger that a certain part of my body will betray my feelings.
Troy, our team captain, enters the shower room, showing off his physique with the swagger of a warrior king. His built is as close to perfection as you can get, skirting that fine line between muscular and grotesque without crossing it. A great chest and shoulders, a pair of strong legs and snake hips. His cock, longer and fatter than average, would have impressed if he hadn't been directly followed in by Harry.
Harry is the newest member of our squad and after a couple of months the sight of him still takes my breath away. Generally, he looks pretty normal, fairly nicely built, pleasant smiling face, blond hair and blue eyes, certainly nothing awful but nothing too exceptional either. Nothing exceptional except that, as I watch him walk naked into the shower room, his manhood swings back and forth with the heavy pendular motion of an elephant's trunk. Even flaccid, the head almost hangs to his knees. I doubt that, even soft, I would be able to close my fingers around it.
Where I would give my right arm for a night with Dylan, I'd give both for one with Harry.
Under the guise of rinsing shampoo from my hair, I follow his journey through the room, straight towards me, until he steps under the shower to my right. For a minute, I have to close my eyes and think of old naked wrinkly women to calm my breathing and avert a disastrous hard-on in the middle of the team. I soap and rinse my meat and two veg, giving me an excuse to look down, glancing another peek at that glorious schlong two feet away. As I make to grab my shower gel, I `accidentally' knock it off the ledge so it lands at Harry's feet.
"Sorry," I say as I bend to pick it up. His monster is only a foot away from my face, my eyes cannot possibly avoid looking at it. My hand blindly grabbles around for the shampoo bottle.
"Look at the floor, you idiot!" My mind shouts at me, "not straight at his groin!"
Reluctantly, I tear my eyes away, locate the bottle and on my way up, feast another second on that beautiful sight.
A hand grabs my throat and slams me with my back against the wall. "What are you looking at, you perv?" Troy has me helplessly pinned. "Caught him gawping again, guys. Absolutely no doubt about it this time. He was practically salivating while he was checking out Harry's whatsit."
"Let him," Harry replies dismissively. "He isn't the first and he won't be the past. It is a cross I have to bear."
"Fuck off! I don't want any pervert queers in our team, eyeing us every time we shower."
"Yeah, I bet every night he has a wank fantasizing about your fat arse, Dylan!"
They've grabbed my arms and march me out of the showers. "If he's that interested in our bodies, let's give him the opportunity to get to know them intimately."
Soon, I am helpless, bent over the massage table, belts and ropes securing my widespread ankles and wrists to its legs. Troy spits in his hand and slathers it on his hard-on. He does look magnificent with 8 inches of throbbing meat standing between those gorgeous legs. Magnificent and scary. I've had sex, of course. I have had plenty of men fuck my backside, but I am sure that won't have prepared me for what is coming. Troy lines his tool up to my hole and I scream as rams it in ball deep without mercy.
"Like it, perv? It is what you're here for, right?"
He rams it in again, even harder.
"Isn't that why you are in our team? To get to touch other guys during the game, and to watch them in the showers and get fucked hard afterwards?
He is pumping, long fast thrusts deep into my gut.
"Give it to him, Troy!" The other 12 have formed a naked circle around us, encouraging their captain as he fucks the shit out of me. He redoubles his efforts, slamming in hard a dozen-or-so times, before I feel this seed gushing into my belly. Panting, he leans over me. "Who's next," he asks as his wilting cock slips from me, "he should be nice and open now."
First Jay, Jack and then Doug have a go at my backside, dumping a load into my gut. The increasing amount of juice flowing from my behind at least helps to lube each next entry. Just as Dylan has thrust his long cock into me, the locker room door opens and Coach Walters walks in. For a moment, he looks taken aback, but he is not the rescuer I had hoped for, because he closes the door and leans against the doorframe, watching.
"Don't mind me, boys. This is an internal disciplinary matter, by the looks of things."
Dylan, frozen while up to his balls inside my arse, restarts his movements. Long, fast prods, but without the violence of Troy. Without the urgency of Troy as well, as he takes his time, long-dicking deep into my bowels and stimulating all my nerve endings. Oh God, this is the best fuck I've had in a long time.
"Christ, he's enjoying it, look!" Embarrassingly, I have developed a raging hard-on.
Dylan keeps up his assault of my arse for at least 15 or 20 minutes, and I shoot an early load onto the locker room floor and a second one while he fills me up with his hot cum. "If you ever needed proof of who's a first class lover," he laughs, pointing at my semen on the locker room floor, "there is it. Please recommend me to your sisters and female friends."
Calum has already taken his place at my behind.
Embarrassing as my position is, now that my arse is open, relaxed and leaking greasy cum, it no longer hurts me much as one after another deposits a load inside my gut, and I am almost starting to enjoy myself. After Calum has finished, Tom, Michael, Oliver and every other member of the squad fuck me with cocks of varying lengths and girths, sometimes making me groan in pain, sometimes in pleasure. There is only one more monster to come. The one I fear but that I look forward to in equal measure. One massive horse-cock that can still rip my arse to shreds however gaping I am.
"Just you left, Harry," Troy encourages him.
"I don't think I should," he says timidly, "I might cause some lasting damage. I am, you know, large."
"It started because he was ogling you, J. He obviously wants it, probably because you are, you know, large."
Coach steps up and for a moment I think he intends to stop this, but I couldn't be more wrong. "If you want me to stretch him a bit more before you take him ..."
He drops his shorts to reveal a fat 10-incher, throbbing with excitement, which he lines up without waiting for an answer. The violent entry stretches my ring so much, I cannot help but yelp in shock.
"Shut up, fag. Stick something down his throat, Troy, I don't want to hear him."
My underpants are stuffed into my mouth and secured with one of my shoelaces. Coach's next hard thrust drives his fat cock into my gut and with the third his balls bounce against mine. I groan into the gag from the fast, painful penetration. The assault is furious. Coach swears at me under his breath, calling me a faggot, a worthless piece of shit, a fucking pervert who needs to be fucking fucked, each word emphasized by a violent deep thrust of his loins. The saving grace is that he doesn't last long, emptying his balls into my belly after only a couple of minutes.
"All yours, Harry," he says, pulling out of me.
"I don't know...," Harry starts but I can see that he is half hard already. Larger than any other cock I've ever seen, his monster is beginning to rise and reveal its true magnificence.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Dylan chants, emphasizing it by clapping his hands in time. The chant is quickly picked up and a ring of naked, shouting men forms around us, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Harry is more than half hard now. Over my shoulder I watch his gargantuan cock towering solidly from his groin, easily over a foot long, wide as a beer can, or wider perhaps. Surely, I can't take something as large as that, nobody can. My stomach cramps in fear. My brain doesn't want him to do this to me, but my belly flutters in excitement. Whether I want it or not, it will happen. Harry is going to take me and when he does, I will get my arse penetrated by what may well be the biggest phallus known to mankind.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Whether it is out of sympathy or because he fears doing serious damage, Harry is gentler than any of the others as he takes me. Fortunately, because if he had thrust his monster in violently, I would probably have died from shock. He slowly forces his head into my backside, stretching my already open ring further than possible. I scream into the gag when it finally pops into me.
Harry gives me a moment to adjust, but he is soon urged by Troy to stick it to me. The monstrous invader slowly infiltrates my belly, stretching my gut beyond belief. I beg him to stop, but the words get smothered by the underpants in my mouth. If he'd been able to hear them, I doubt my assailant would have sympathized though. The progress of his manhood is unrelenting. he pain is beginning to overwhelm me, my arse and my gut appear about to rupture, my entire lower body seems to burn. My former teammates are still chanting, cheering, whooping at the incredible sight of Harry's huge meat getting forced into me.
"All the way, man! Ram it into him! All the way!"
"Look at his arse, I think he's going to tear before this is over."
I cannot see how far in he is, I only know that I cannot take much more – No, better make that `cannot take any more'. Harry flexes his hips and drives another inch or so into my gut. I start begging again, uselessly.
"Christ, he is actually going to give him the entire thing"
I don't know how long it takes him – 10 minutes, 15 perhaps – but from the reactions I gather that Harry is about to bottom out. Indeed, with one last hard agonizing thrust, I feel his hips slapping against my butt. I am crying from pain, from relief, even from pride that a dozen men have seen how I've managed to accommodate the entire length of the guy's engorged monster.
"Now fuck him, J. Fuck him hard. Let him feel every inch of the cock he was slobbering over."
He doesn't fuck me hard, or at least not as hard as he might have, but the impact is crippling enough as it is. His shunts get longer, pulling out further each time, before driving back in to the hilt. Not violently, but brutal enough to pummel my organs. And yet, despite everything, despite the agony and the strain, my arse is relaxing. My gut is adapting to the tight stretch around his mammoth girth. Not enjoyable, not enjoyable at all, but definitely arousing.
"The fucker is getting hard again! Jesus H. Christ! He's getting clobbered by a guy who is hung like a blue whale, and he is horny for it."
"Fucking pervert"
Harry is long-dicking me, very long-dicking me. Endlessly long thrusts that end with him grinding his pubic bone into my crack, trying to shove every fraction of an inch into my backside. His breathing rate increases, he's reaching a climax. I am reaching a climax. Another climax. The thrusts become more frantic, harder, as if he is losing control over himself.
"That's it, fuck him!"
"Hard, J."
With his manhood crammed deep in my belly, he begins to fill my gut with his hot seed. Instantly, I shoot another load in sympathy. But while my balls are emptied again quickly, he shoots 6 or 7 massive blasts of manjuice that seem to scorch my insides, before collapsing onto my back.
The punishing assault by Harry seems to have brought things to a natural end. My teammates dress and pack up. I am untied from the massage table and left there to my own devices. I spit out the gag, but stay down, don't talk, don't move, trying not to attract any further attention. Although I don't think I could have moved anyway if I tried. Every muscle in my body hurts, every movement seems to cause a searing pain in my underbelly.
When I am finally alone, I move an arm to reach for my backside. Gaping still, hot sticky wet. I look at my fingers: no blood, so all just semen. Cum from the dozen-plus men who violently used my arse.
I can't stay here, what if someone walks in and finds me. I drag myself up off the table. My briefs are wet with saliva, but I put them on anyway to collect the cum leaking from my behind.
Trousers, shirt. I would need to sit down to return my laces to my shoes, but my arse is not ready yet for that, so I leave the shoes untied.
About fifteen minutes after the others, I leave the locker room. It is dark outside already, how long have we been in there? Must be hours.
I limp along the path to the parking lot, towards a waiting Harry.
"Happy Birthday, Darling!" My boyfriend wraps his arms around me and kisses me on the lips. "Did you like your party?"
I kiss him back. "I did, baby, very much. I wish it were a surprise party, but it was great even though I knew it was coming."
He smiles broadly. "Isn't funny how easy it was to convince them all to help you live out your dream, even the straight ones. Dylan and a couple of the others are waiting in The Green Man for a few birthday drinks. After that we can go home for a little private celebration."
"Please be gentle, I've had a hard evening."
THE END