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< OWNING ZACH ERTZ >
The crowd roared. Chants of "Fly, Eagles, Fly" began to ring throughout Philadelphia's Lincoln Financial Field. Zach Ertz stood at the end zone with his signature outstretched arms, one hand gripping the cowhide on the game ball so tightly his knuckles were white, soaking in the glory of scoring the winning touchdown in his home stadium and awaiting the inevitable, animalistic embraces of his teammates and coaches.
Towering at six feet, five inches, the Philadelphia Eagles' star tight end grinned boyishly as he felt the impact of his teammates bodies against his, hugging him with joyful hoots and hollers, their helmets clanging, shoulder pads banging. Total testosterone overload. Zach's heart pounded hard from all the adrenaline, the energy of a buzzing stadium, the thrill of victory... the butterflies in his stomach, the trembling toes and fingers, the dread of knowing the unavoidable consequences of this win... Nobody noticed Zach's shaking knees, or how his forlorn eyes watered with trepidation despite his beaming smile.
For once, the 29 year old didn't rush out to meet his mom or speed home to Skype with his wife, Julie, who - in addition to her own commitments to the Chicago Red Stars' regular soccer season and training schedule, has embarked on a whirlwind of press and tours after the U.S. national team won the World Cup in 2019. Zach's teammates often joked how sickeningly-sweet he and Julie are together - when they're actually together, that is - good-natured digs at how infrequent the handsome athlete was getting laid. Zach was actually scared to do the math of how many days they spend together versus apart, but the days they do have together, the adorable couple made the most of it, running a family charity foundation, going to church, doing yoga, praying, and good ol' Ertz family time.
No. Zach's post-game routine dragged on and on that day. After the usual round of interviews and press, the athlete was slow to unlace his shoes, slow to strip out of his gear and sweaty uniform, slow to peel off his stinky socks, slow to soap up, to rinse off... The 250-pound mound of muscle finally finished his shower after nearly every one of his teammates had dressed and left, and yet he sat there on the bench next to his open locker, naked except for a wet towel around his trim waist, his long toes curling and flexing and his knees bouncing with anxiety, his long fingers trembling as he fumbled with the silver cross he always wore around his neck. Biting his luscious, pink lower lip with dread, Zach thought he may be having a panic attack right then and there, his thick chest heaving, his muscular body hot and burning as a new sheen of sweat began to percolate...
Zach couldn't help it. He had to win. His teammates and coaches counted on him. His fans counted on him. His family, his wife... everyone counted on him... to win. All his life, the alpha jock had to win. To be perfect. To achieve. To accomplish. He knew the consequences of winning that day, but losing, being subpar, was beyond his nature and controlling impulse. Of course, Zach's overwhelming fear - buried deep down in the abyss of his psyche - was the very real possibility that he... maybe... just maybe... did want to suffer the consequences of winning that day, that he wanted the unmentionable... maybe he actually wanted what was about to happen... to happen.
The athlete drove off in a daze. He couldn't remember getting dressed or packing up or getting in his car. The next thing he could consciously register was getting down on his knees in that dark basement, the musky stink of sex and regret, as he felt the hardness of a thick, mushroom head of a hard, giant black cock pressing against his reluctant yet desperately-wet lips. Zach gripped his left wrist with his right hand behind his back like he was told, smelling the funk of a ripe, stranger, slobbering all over the massive 12-inch tool, licking it, tasting it, inhaling it, before feeling the cock's owner begin to pummel his face and throat. Harder, rougher, and deeper with every thrust until drool trickled down his strong chin and tears overflowed from his sparkling blue-green eyes.
I'm ruined. Ruined. Ruined.
... ONE MONTH AGO TO THE DAY...
"No... no... no!" Zach began hyperventilating, his athletic body instantly covered in a coat of cold sweat. Widely considered one of the best tight ends in the NFL, he has not thought about that summer after his senior year of high school... not even once... until now. "This is not happening..."
The Northern California boy was just acting out - exploring, experimenting... blowing off pent up energy typical of any 18-year-old, overachieving jock. The moment he entered as a freshman at Stanford University that fall, the moment he put on the Cardinals jersey, Zach efficiently locked away everything he'd done that summer, quickly and completely forgetting everything. Every fuzzy detail, every "did that happen?", "what did I do?!", "did I black out?".
Until now.
"No... no... no! This is not real..." Zach felt his body tremble and shake with anger as he clenched his phone. He had not felt this kind of fear and rage since meeting Julie, since rediscovering Jesus and their faith together.
"What's the matter, babe?" Zach's wife Julie called out from the kitchen after spotting her hunk of a husband suddenly retreat into the bathroom.
"Not... noth... nothing..." Zach stammered as he locked the door and opened up the text message again. "I... I... I think I'm coming down with something..."
No. It was definitely him.
"What the fuck do you want?!" Zach angrily typed on his phone. Horrified. Ashamed. He sat on the edge of the tub, refreshing his messages every second while broken fragments of that summer finally flashed before his rage-filled eyes. His long, talon toes curled, leaving behind size-15 steamy foot prints on the cold, tiled floor.
(... Eleven years ago...)
Drugs. Alcohol. Girls. Repeat...
An 18-year-old Zach, freshly out of high school and needing to unwind, quickly fell in with older guys from town. A joint here, a hit of coke there, a random girl every night... the jock had to get it all out of his system before college. After years of being perfect... studying, working out, training, basketball, football, practices, training, training, training... every sacrifice and bottled adolescent desire led to that summer of complete debauchery. He had gotten into Stanford. He was going to play college football and was, without an iota of doubt, well on his way to to the NFL. He could fuck whoever he wanted, the hottest girls around town and their sisters and moms and aunts. He was already a fucking star.
People flocked to him. Parasites. Users. Abusers. They gave him free weed. Poppers. Ecstasy. Molly. Coke. Crack. As soon as he walked and grabbed his high school diploma and a fake ID, the 18 year old was black-out drunk practically every night, save the days he was too hung over to get out of bed. People bought him drinks until he started buying everyone drinks. People gave him drugs until he started owing them money. Easy girls turned into prostitutes. One favor after another, another line, another joint, another cracked out night in some random person's basement after sweaty hours dancing and drinking at the club. He buried his fat 10-inch cock in every pussy that came across his lap, fucking them to wet climaxes night after night until he blacked out again and again.
Zach owed money. A lot of it, and everyone started holding out. Girls suddenly closed their legs, dealers threatened him. Ultimatums. You gotta pay up, kid. Zach spiraled so fast he didn't know what hit him. He couldn't remember how it all happened, but he needed another hit in that dank basement. He was wasted and high but needed more. The 50-something-year-old taunted him... preyed on him... used him.
...
The boy was a sight for sore eyes. High as a kite and and all over every girl in sight the entire summer He was beautiful. Tall. Beefy. Athletic. Blue-green eyes, chiseled face. Long, shaggy dirty blond hair. Charming as fuck and a messy drunk. Clearly horny and always dressed in a tight t-shirt and gym shorts with a backwards cap and Addidas sliders, the surfer kid, jock-frat-bro-in-waiting cut a striking figure.
It wasn't hard to wave a few $20 bills in front of the desperate jock to get him to drop his gym shorts that first night. The kid was so out of it he could've fucked a telephone book. Pimps and dealers were threatening to beat him to a pulp night after night for not paying up, and the man observed the beautiful teenager's descent into debt and desperation for weeks now. Sucking from a crack pipe, Zach grabbed the $20 bills with no hesitation and felt the mouth of a dirty old man on his cock for the first time, somehow allowing the stranger pull up his t-shirt to feel his tight, six-pack abs and his full, round pecs and hard nipples... Zach had long blacked before the old man swallowed ropes and ropes of his fresh, teenaged jock cum.
That old man paid to suck Zach's 10-inch jock cock every other night. After he'd fucked girls, their moms, or random hookers who gave it up for cheap. There were nights Zach was so high and drunk he couldn't remember how he ended up in that basement, only to wake up the next morning, sometimes just in his t-shirt, sometimes completely naked, to find cash strewn on his exposed body before stumbling home to pass out again.
...
Zach slowly pieced together the long-forgotten fragments from that hazy summer 11 years ago. It was just a blow job from some old perv. Memories of different nights in that man's basement flashed back, though. Again. And again. More and more. On the couch. On the floor. On the stairs. Getting sucked off and having some old perv swallow his jock cum... until he saw flashes of his teenage self on his knees, the unimaginable and locked-away memories of the pungent taste of a penis and another man's rank semen...
He'd forgotten about the night when he pounded on the old man's door - who lived down the street from him and his family - begging for cash. No. Zach had forced himself to forget that moment when he begged that man for more money, how he tearfully got on his knees, how he - with trembling hands and shaking fingers - unzipped that old man's pants, feeling the wet, hard cock press against his sweet, quivering lips for the first time.
So what. I sucked cock for cash. I needed it. I got out of debt. Who the fuck cares. Julie doesn't need to know. Nothing bad happened. I aced college. Aced the draft. Aced the hot girl and am acing my career. So what I sucked cock?! Who the fuck cares?!?! Zach caught himself at the last second, stopping himself from smashing the phone against the wall. His boyish face was red with rage.
Zach's stomach dropped when the man texted back a video. With hesitant fingers, he tapped the screen. It was him. Was it him? A blond, shaggy-haired, muscular man-child was his back. His long, muscular legs spread wide with hands around his ankles. The stunned athlete nearly dropped his phone when fumbled to mute the girlish whimpering and screams. It was him. Was it him? Getting fucked senseless on the floor, Zach couldn't believe it and watched in horror, seeing this fit kid's long toes curl in the air, his hands gripping the old man's saggy ass so tightly his knuckles were white. His naked, teenaged body, smooth all over and already so sculpted and defined, took the man's hard pounding. Zach clasped his mouth in shock when he saw the young jock's back arch off the floor, his long, thick cock hard and bouncing off his tight abs with every thrust. Zach's throat was dry but he couldn't help himself as he un-muted his phone...
"UGHN! UGHN! UGHNN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME DADDY! FUCK ME DADDY! I'M YOUR WHORE! FUCK YOUR LITTLE WHORE DADDY!!! FUCK ME! UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!"
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE YOU FUCKING FAKE PIECE OF SHIT!!!!! STOP TEXTING ME OR I'M GOING TO THE POLICE!!!!!" Zach pounded away on his phone. Beyond enraged. Beyond scared. Beyond petrified. The 6'5 mound of muscle was shaking from head to toe with fear and rage, uncontrollable feelings he hasn't felt since... since finding Christ.
Another video popped up on the phone. It was him. It absolutely was him. No dark lighting. No far-away camera. On all fours, an 18-year-old jack back arched deeply, his boyish and handsome face facing directly at the camera, his watery eyes staring into the lens. Pink lips agape. He was clearly high and the man was mounting him from behind, pulling on his shaggy, blond hair as he fucked the jock...
"You like Daddy's dick, Zachy? Tell Daddy how much Zachy loves taking cock!" That familiar voice...
"UGHNNNN! UGHNNN! YES DADDY! UGHNNN! I LOVE IT! I LOVE GETTING FUCKED! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER! FUCK ME HARDER! UGHNNN! YES!!!! UGHNN!!! MAKE ME CUM LIKE THIS DADDY! UGHNNN! PLEASE DON'T STOP! UGHNNN! MAKE ME CUM! UGHNNN! UGHNNN! CUM INSIDE ME! CUME INSIDE ME DADDY!!!!!!!!
Jesus. Fuck. Zach's cherubic cheeks were ghostly white as he quickly muted the short clip. He couldn't remember any of this. Sucking cock, hazily... yes. But not this. No. Absolutely. NO! There was no way this was him. How could he not remember this? It can't be... but it was him... the second video was crystal clear. Zach couldn't fathom uttering these words, ever... ever... ever... There were a few seconds left of the video, but Zach deleted it as soon as he could.
"What the fuck do you want?!?!" Zach angrily typed.
"Come over, boy." The response was instant. With an address not far from the Eagles' home stadium.
"No fucking way."
"Or I'll upload the vids to PornHub."
"You're insane."
"Or I'll upload ALL the vids."
"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!!!!!!! FUCK YOU!!!!!"
"You really want to play it this way, son?"
"..." Zach buried his handsome face in his large, calloused hands. I'm ruined. I'm ruined... What did he mean "ALL" the vids!??
"Now. Son."
"You're not going to get away with this!!!!!!"
"Now. Zachy. Bring your Eagles gear, too. All of it. Pads, jersey, everything."
"..." Zach was so confused. So lost.
"NOW. BOY."
... ONE HOUR LATER ...
The drive was a total blur for Zach. He couldn't recall getting dressed or what he'd said to Julie before getting out of the house. Nor could the tight end recall throwing his shoulder pads, helmet, jockstrap and jersey from the Eagles locker room into a giant gym bag, or what pathetic excuse he made up to the security staff explaining his odd presence on an off day. The first thing the enraged tight end could consciously register was that familiar, panic-inducing voice.
"You grew up nice, didn't you, boy? Have a seat," The man had aged considerably since that summer 11 years ago. Zach thought he'd vomit right then and there. He must've made up some lie to Julie to get out of the house. He had never lied to her before. "Don't scowl, son."
"What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want. From. Me." Zach intoned mechanically, swallowing his rage and practically flexing his masculinity through his baggy sweat shirt, his arms crossed in self-defense as he leaned his tall, muscular frame against the wall, petulantly refusing to sit down. His socked toes curled tightly in his sneakers. He couldn't look the man in the eyes. He was sweaty. Overheated.
"Would Jesus want you to talk with a filthy mouth like that, son? Plus, you know what I want..."
"YOU'RE NOT LAYING ANOTHER FUCKING FINGER ON ME EVER AGAIN!!!!!" Zach suddenly screamed and banged the arm of the sofa, exasperated, confused, scaring himself with the screeching pitch of his cracked voice.
"No boy, I promise I won't... I just want to see you in your Eagles uniform."
"..." Zach was still shaking from his enraged outburst and stammered, suspect and doubting. "That... that's all you want...?"
"I promise I won't lay a finger on you, son... get on with it."
"..." Zach fidgeted. "You... right here?"
"You change in front of your teammates all the time, boy... don't be shy for me now!"
"That's all you want?!"
"Get on with it son."
Swallowing deeply. Zach reluctantly pulled off his thick hoodie and defiantly kicked off his sneakers, stripping off his socks angrily and tossing them aside. The jock did not hesitate peeling off his tight t-shirt to reveal his thick and chiseled torso, ever so lightly hairy on the chest and abs, but he suddenly froze when he went on to pull down his sweat pants and boxers.
"You'll leave me alone if I do this?" Is this really all the pervert wanted?
"Boy... you ain't got a choice now, do you?"
It was humiliating, standing there in the middle of undressing for the man. Zach bit the bullet and in one swoop pulled down his boxers too, kicking both items off, standing there in front of the old man completely naked, save for the silver cross he always wore around his neck. Please don't touch... don't he dare touch me... Zach raged inside, his stomach turning, sweating profusely already.
"Son, you grew up real good..." Zach winced hearing the running commentary on his body. His long toes flexed and curled, digging into the old carpet as his heart pounded faster and harder. "You really bulked up, didn't you? Those arms... your thighs... your chest... you did good, boy..."
Without a word and desperately trying to block out the man's taunting, Zach hastened to bend over to unzip his gym bag, hoping to get dressed as quickly as possible, blushing crimson red when the man whistled and realizing he'd given the man a full view of his lightly-hairy ass crack. Maybe, maybe he wouldn't dare to touch me now... I could beat him to a pulp and nobody would give a damn... Furious thoughts raced through the jock's spinning head, scaring himself with these dark thoughts in order to get out of this... this... whatever this was.
"Damn son, that ass of yours..." The man sort of knew what to expect from his jock boy, seeing him on TV and ads and social media, but his body, his masculine scent, his thick musculature, and the hardness, roundness, and tightness of his ass... were above and beyond any fantasy and expectation. Zach's cock just was as the man remembered... pink and cut, low hanging, giant balls, but now groomed and trimmed neatly. "You should really let that bush grow back out..."
Ignoring the man, Zach was breathing deeply when he hastily pulled out his white jockstrap, stepping his large feet through them and pulling them up as quickly as he could to cover his cock. Though, in his dazed, mad rush to get to get here, Zach had forgotten to bring his Underarmour shirt. Whatever. On went the shoulder pads, the Eagles jersey. Shit. He'd also forgotten his pants, socks and shoes.
Standing there with his bottom half bare save the jockstrap, Zach, unsure of what to do, hesitantly reached for his helmet.
"You can leave the helmet off son... I want to see that pretty face of yours. But where's the rest?" The look of this half-dressed stud jock before him was perverse and glorious.
"I... I... forgot..."
"Baby boy... I gave you one task..."
"I'M SORRY! I... I..." Zach was breathing so hard he thought he'd faint. He was so embarrassed, so ashamed of the lewd absurdity of standing there half naked in his beloved Eagles gear... how did he end up in this situation?!
The man cooed. "But..."
"But, what?!" Zach snapped. Exasperated. So lost. So confused. He was on the verge of crying. Please don't touch me... he wouldn't dare after all these years... Zach instinctively covered his crotch with his helmet.
"How much do you love your wife? Your Jesus?"
"What?! You can't... I'm... I'm HERE AREN'T I?!?!?!!"
"You fucking pussy..." The man interrupted. "When was the last time you fucked Julie?"
"DON'T YOU FUCKING MENTION HER NAME!"
"Sweet boy, you're horny as fuck ain't you?"
"YOU. ARE. INSANE.!"
"Your balls look blue even in covered up in that jock, Zachy..."
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!?!?!?!?!?!!" Zach choked back tears of frustration, his knuckles white from clenching his helmet so hard. He hated himself. He knew his cock was growing rigid, pressing against the tight, white pouch of his jockstrap and the back of his helmet as he felt more and more and more out of control. Loads and loads of fresh jock cum was boiling inside his heavy ball sac. He hadn't been laid in months.
"Not what I want. What HE wants."
FUCK. Zach nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly realized someone else was in the basement with them this whole time. He dropped his helmet and froze in fear. His knees were shaking in a way he'd never experienced before, his long toes dug into the carpeted floor for support.
The man emerged from the shadows, completely naked except for a mask that professional wrestlers wear. Not as tall as Zach nor nearly as beefy, but the man's body was lean and cut, his smooth, black skin glistened in the dimly-lit basement. But it was that cock. The massive tool. Hard. Raging. Thick. Meaty. Veiny. Zach was dumbstruck.
"What do you say, boy? Small punishment for not following my orders? Small price to pay for your past indiscretions, eh?"
"..."
"You know what to do."
"..."
"You. Know. What. To. Do."
"I... You... you're... the devil... (I... can't!)" Zach choked back tears, hating himself for his inability to take his eyes off the hooded man's giant, erect penis.
"Don't worry. He won't tell nobody about you. You're our dirty little secret."
"YOU'RE INSANE! YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE!!!!!!" Zach screamed, pounding the wall behind him with both fists. His shoulder pads clacked against the wall. The perfect life he'd built - the perfect wife, the perfect career, discovering his faith thanks to his perfect church and community - was rapidly crumbling. The feeling of being totally out of control... the athlete hadn't felt like this since... that summer. He didn't realize he had punched cracks in the wall behind him while screaming at the top of his lungs. His 10-inch cock, rock hard, tenting his white jockstrap pouch, desperate to escape its pathetic confines.
"Shhhhh, sweet boy. You know what to do. It's like riding a bike..."
Zach's face was beet red, wet with tears. He cringed with every word that came out of the man's mouth and was horrified to look down to see his own hard cock.
"See boy? You do remember!" The man patronizingly nodded to Zach's erection, now barely contained by the white fabric of his jockstrap.
"(You can't do this to me... please...)" Zach's knees buckled and the beefy stud of an athlete fell on his knees in front of the old man, begging, pleading, choking back tears and hyperventilating. "(Please don't do this to me... please...)"
"You should be begging him, son. You'll call him Sir from now on. You remember what you used to call me?"
"(Please... please... don't... please... please don't do this... Daddy...)" Zach's red, hard cock finally escaped his jockstrap and bounced between his legs, perverse moments of his past flashed through his tormented mind... finally uttering "Daddy". He was so humiliated. So ashamed. So out of control. So turned on.
"Good boy... sweet boy, but ask him..." The man motioned for Zach to turn around.
"(Please... please... Sir... please... don't... do...)" Turning towards the hooded stranger and before Zach could finish his plea, the tip of Sir's 12-inch rock-hard cock lewdly rubbed against the jock's wet, pouty lips. Looking up with teary eyes, Zach felt his own hard cock jump with excitement as he reluctantly opened his mouth.
"That's it boy, open..."
"(UGHN!! UHGNN!!!)" Zach gagged. He almost threw up. The taste of a cock. The thickness, hardness, veiny-ness. Pushing past his full lips, slowly fucking his quivering mouth.
"Good boy. Lick it up. Slobber all over like you used to suck me."
"(UGHN!)" Zach lost his mind. What was happening?! He couldn't recall how he'd ended up on his knees like this. Dressed like this. He was so horny. His own cock ached from its hardness. Unable to control his body, the hunky pro athlete licked the length of the foot-long cock like he was told, getting used to its taste, its girth, its heaviness. He suddenly whimpered when he felt Sir reach around and feel his exposed meaty, bubble ass. "GUHN!N!! NO! NO! NOT THAT! I CAN'T! UGHNNN! HMMMM!!!"
"Shut the fuck up you pussy boy... you were always a natural cocksucker, weren't you, son?"
"PLEASE NO! PLEASE! NOT UGHNN! THIS UGHNN! UGHNN!!!" Zach slobbered hungrily at the cock as he felt Sir's cock lodged deep in his throat, his abuser's hands reaching down to pry open his furry cheeks, exposing his pink hole winking amidst his lightly hairy ass crack. "UGHNNN! UGHNNN!"
"Attaboy! Open up!"
Everything happened so fast. Zach found himself whimpering like a girl. He sucked on that cock like he'd been hungry for 11 years. Like his life depended on it. His first cock in 11 years. He was on a high. From Sir's musk, his cock, the taste of precum, the saltiness of a man's skin...the finger probing at his pink hole... gagging... choking... his eyes watering... "UGHNNNNN!!! UGHNNNN!"
"You were always a screamer, weren't you, son?" The old man marveled at the sight before him. Zach on his knees, the trembling torso clad in his Eagles jersey and pads, his last name ERTZ printed big and bold on the jersey, struggling to swallow all of Sir's 12 inches, whimpering and crying like a little bitch as Sir's long middle finger pushed inside his tight, pink jock hole. "Arch that back, boy."
"(UGHN!!)" Zach gagged and choked and slobbered on Sir's monster cock as tears streamed down his face, arching his back and feeling the sting of penetration as his hard cock bounced between his muscular thighs. He slobbered all over that cock as a long strand of precum oozed out of his red, hard cock.
Zach couldn't admit to himself. He'd fingered himself while jacking off ever since that summer, though he'd conveniently blocked out how he'd discovered ass play in the first place. However, he hadn't touched his hole since he married Julie. Everything changed when he married her. Once a cocky alpha, Zach turned rather docile when with Julie, obliging to her every request, demand. No more masturbating, even when they were apart for weeks and months. No more porn, no matter how horny he got. Just Julie. And church. And Christ. Nothing else mattered. No more perverse desires, cravings.
Their faith. That's all they needed. People presumed, because they're both top athletes in their fields, the golden, beautiful couple, the boyishly-handsome Zach and the pretty Julie, that they fuck all the time. Crazy wild sex. However, nothing could be further from reality. Zach had to bury his natural kinky desires, his dark inclinations... of rough sex, of bondage, BDSM, fetishes... He wanted to get fingered, to get rimmed, to get pegged... to have threesomes with trannies... to fuck and be spanked, gagged, pissed on. It was all buried deep inside when he married Julie. But no, everything was vanilla between them, so sweet, just tender and barely any at all. His new-found faith, their faith, kept him going even though there were months he thought he'd break inside, or the shameful mornings waking up alone to discover cum-soaked sheets. No. They were meant to be. They had to be. She had saved him. Or he thought.
"Julie doesn't finger or eat you out, does she, son?"
"UGHNNN!! UGHNN!" Sir was face fucking Zach now, mercilessly, as the jock gagged and drooled, his large hands held on to Sir's lean hips for dear life, his thick jock ass instinctively grinding back against Sir's prying finger. First one, Then two. It hurt, but Zach's cock oozed more and more precum from the pain. Cock-muffled screams escaped his full throat when Sir's third finger stretched him open, a long strand of precum pissed from his hard cock as Zach feebly tried to slow down the dominant Sir's face fucking by futilely pushing against Sir's hips. The 6'5 muscle hunk could've easily overpowered Sir in a brawl, but instead, Zach remained on his knees with his ass up, sucking cock. As soon as he gagged and spit out the footlong cock, Sir would grab his hair and shove the athlete back down."UGHNNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN!!!!!!!!"
"Jesus fuck shut the fuck up, son... get on with it..." Daddy motioned to Sir. Without a word this entire time, Sir pulled out his wet cock and fingers from Zach''s two holes and swiftly got behind the trembling hunk. "Look at me, son."
Zach looked up, his face wet with tears, his cheeks red and lips puffy, gasping for air. His eyes filled with lust and rage. With a nod from Daddy, Sir pushed his cock inside Zach's near-virgin hole.
"UGHNN! OH GOD! UGHNN! DADDY PLEASE DON'T! UGHNNN! PLEASE! SLOW....! UGHNN! UGHNN!! OH FUCK! PLEASE... SLOW... SIR... SLOW... UGHNNN! UGHNNNNN! UGHNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Zach screamed bloody murder as he felt his hole stretched open, feeling his body get torn in half by Sir's monster cock. His protesting hands trying to push back Sir's hips were slapped away and roughly repositioned in front, as Sir held on to Zach's Eagles jersey collar with one hand, pulling the screaming jock back on to his big black dick, brutally snaking six inches inside the squirming tight end, striking the athlete's ass with his other hand. Zach grunted deeply, struggling to crawl away from Sir's cock, feeling the sting of a hand on his ass cheek and his own balls rise and his hard cock bounce between his thighs. Sir's cock was so big, so hard, so rigid. It hurt so much... The jock had to cover his own mouth with both hands... he couldn't stand hearing himself like this as his body desperately tried to shake away Sir's intrusion as his abuser pushed in and pulled out, over and over again, thrusting deeper everything time. His beloved Eagles jersey and pads were suffocating. "(UGHNNN! I... I CAN'T! PLEASE! UGHNNN!!! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! I CAN'T!!!!!)"
"Look at me, son... Don't you try to run away from your Sir..." Daddy held out a bottle of poppers under Zach's nose.
"No... no... UHGN! OW...! UGHNN! The jock protested, gasped, his body on fire, shaking his head furiously, crying from the pain of losing his anal virginity for a second time and the shame of his very real reality.
"Come on boy, you love poppers..." Daddy held out the bottle to Zach again. The pain was too much for the tight end to endure, and the 6'5 athlete, grunting and panting with fear and regret and humiliation, took a giant sniff, and another, and another, and another... His body suddenly flushed with pleasure amidst the pain, his hole relaxing... opening... remembering... his screams and grunts turned into moans when Sir finally, finally managed to bury the entirety of his foot-long shaft deep inside the jock's quivering hole.
"Attaboy... there's my greedy boy..." The sight before Daddy. Those pouty lips. That face. Those wet, conflicted eyes. Zach's 10-inch cock swelled thicker, hanging and bouncing between those giant thighs, his balls tight and contracted, readily to blow at any moment."Just like riding a bike..."
"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!!!!" Zach suddenly cried out, finally feeling the pleasures of pain and submission he'd denied himself all these years, reawakening to that summer of debauchery and perversity. Sir began withdrawing his footlong cock until just the fat mushroom head remained just inside Zach's pink, stretched anus, then slowly pushing back in to the now whimpering athlete's hot, tight hole, withdrawing again faster, shoving in harder, again and again, picking up in pace and roughness and finally fucking the squealing pig of an athlete long and deep. Zach took it on his knees and elbows, sweating in his Eagles pads and jersey and feeling his muscular, massive body push back against Sir's cock and hips... the familiar sounds of hip smacking against his muscular ass.
With one brutal slam and a rough hand behind his neck, Zach was forced down, his face buried into the musty carpet. Zach gripped madly the carpet with his fingers, his large feet kicking wildly behind Sir, his long toes curled tightly in the air, as he endured the fucking of his life. All 12 inches of it, to his Daddy's delight. "UGHNN! UGHNNN!!! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNNN!!!!!"
"What do you say to your Sir, boy?" Daddy marveled at the athlete arching his back and the sounds of flesh against flesh.
"UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! FUCK! UGHNN! OH GOD! OH GOD! FUCK... FUCK... FUCK ME SIR! FUCK ME SIR! FUCK ME HARDER SIR!!" Zach screamed into the carpet as his jock hole opened up and inhaled Sir's cock with every brutal thrust. His pads and jersey were soaked with his and Sir's sweat. Taking Sir's merciless pounding like a champ, Zach felt the pain of the foot-long black cock hitting the deepest part of his jock pussy, making him grunt and whimper and cry, making his hard cock bounce and leak. Time stopped for Zach as he got plowed like a bitch. As soon as the athlete got used to Sir's girth and thrusts and tempo, somehow Sir would surprise Zach by harder and deeper, mixing up the rhythm and eliciting from the jock more and more desperate cries each time.
"OH FUCK!" Zach winced in pain as Sir suddenly grabbed his hair and bottomed out inside him, grinding deeper and deeper, and deeper forcing the jock to look back up at his Daddy while hitting deeper and deeper inside. The athlete shot his hand back to push back Sir's anal assault, only to have it roughly twisted and held behind his back. "JESUS FUCK!"
"What. Do. You. Say. To. Your. Sir."
"UGHN! JESUS! FUCK... UGHNN! TH... THAN... THANK YOU! THANK UGHNN! UGHNN! THANK YOU SIR!!!!" Zach cried, whimpered, moaned. It hurt so good. His ass was on fire, but it felt so good to be manhandled, to be overpowered, to... relinquish control. To have Sir pull on his hair, to be used like a sex toy, a hole. The harder Sir fucked him, the harder Zach's cock swelled. The more pain Sir dealt him, the more his cock spewed precum. Zach was fucked to the brink of limits, only to be pushed past it and fucked some more. His voice cracked, hoarse from screaming and crying and whimpering and grunting, begging for more. "JESUS! FUCK! JESUS! FUCK!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!"
He couldn't believe how good Sir's abuse made him feel, using him, dominating him, fucking him. He couldn't believe how rock-hard his cock was, how much precum he was pissing, how he buried his handsome face in his large hands now as he got fucked brutally, how he sobbed and grunted and moaned and screamed, how he didn't care about anything any more... how he was broken. How he was ruined.
"JESUS! UGHNNN! UGHNN! FUCK! UGHNNNN! OH Y GOD!!!!!! UGNNN GUHNNN! GUHNNN!! FUCK!!!!! OH MY GOD OH GOD OH GOD UGHNNNN!!!!!!!! UGHNNN!!!!!!!"
...
Somehow, the delirious jock regained consciousness. Did I black out?! Zach found himself on his back, looking up at his hooded Sir. Zach had been stripped naked, his balls sore and cock deflated but leaking., his heaving, muscular torso dripping with sweat. What happened?! What happened?!
"Sweet boy... taste your cum for Daddy... come on, open up..." Daddy whispered as Sir immediately scooped up a glob of creamy cum from the thick, cummy puddle next to Zach, with his fingers and wiped it on Zach's pink, full lips. The athlete, still groggy and regaining his senses, cringed, finally snapping to reality and remembering where he was and what had just happened.
"What... ughnn! UGHN!! What.. UGHNNN?!?" Zach felt Sir's giant cock head pressing against his sloppy, swollen hole, him, tasting his own cum for the first time in forever. His large feet framed Sir's hooded head above him, as sweat dripped down on his thick pecs. He felt so empty, gaping.
"You came without permission, boy... You came buckets, son. You always cum when getting fucked with your ass up like that, don't you remember?"
"You... I... please... no more..." Zach's face was white He couldn't help himself... smelling his own funky sweet cum on his lips... the athlete gave in as he licked his lips, his body spent, his balls empty, his hole aching. He wondered if Sir came inside him... he hated himself for these thoughts... did he breed me? God... Oh God... Zach raged against himself, for knowing deep down he'd wished he hadn't blacked out just then, he wanted to feel that orgasm, to feel Sir's big black cock pummeling the cum out of his boiling balls. He wanted to reach down to feel his hole, to see if Sir had came... wishing he hadn't... wishing for more cock inside his jock pussy.
"Come on boy, eat up... you love eating cum, don't you remember?" On command, Sir scooped up more cum, and more cum, wiping his cummy hand on Zach's mouth and face until the athlete started licking it... sucking on it... tasting himself and feeling a thrilling rush shoot through his body when Sir sniffed his toes and inhaled his soles, feeling so vulnerable and exposed, feeling the pleasure of submissiveness and of being out of control, feeling his worn, aching hole forced open...
When Sir slammed his cock deep inside him again, taking no time this second round and hitting a new spot deep inside him, Zach screamed. It wasn't any easier the second time, and he was sweating so hard, whimpering so loud, as his ass gripped on that big black cock. The jock's desperate cries and cummy lips were instantly covered by Sir's cummy hand, as he held on to Sir's bony hips for dear life, getting fucked senseless, pulling Sir deeper, wrapping his long legs around his abuser and locking his ankles behind Sir's waist.
"That's it... breed him... breed my boy... There's my horny little fag..." Zach couldn't contain himself. He was humiliated by Daddy's taunting, but his spent, flaccid cock bounced back to life, swelling harder and harder with every slam from Sir and every disgusting word from Daddy.
"Boy. You're hard as a rock. Use him. As hard as you want. He won't break. Trust me, he won't break." Zach's eyes rolled to the back of his head when, still with Sir's cummy hands covering his panting mouth, Sir leaned and pressed his forearm against Zach's throat, choking harder with every thrust while the athlete's turgid cock bounced between his own tight abs against Sir's lean eight pack, his toes curling and flexing as girlish cries tried to escape his muffled throat and mouth.
"That's it, fag... that's it..." Zach lost his mind, writhing underneath Sir, pulling him deeper with his powerful legs, his large hands rubbing his own thick pecs as he lost air, feeling Sir's cock filling in completely before withdrawing and slamming back in, pinching his own nipples and stroking his shockingly-hard cock, harder and harder, feeling his veiny cock swell thicker in his hand with every stroke, and every pinch of his nipples. He was just a few strokes away from cumming again.
"UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGNNN!!!!!!"
"Did I say you could pleasure yourself, boy?" Daddy nodded to Sir, who withdrew his hand and arm from Zach's mouth and throat, slapping away the jock's hands. "Pleasure your Sir..."
"UGHN! (Yes... Daddy...)" Zach whined, his red cock bounced, his balls tightened... he was on the edge, so close to that orgasm he so desperately wanted to feel.
"Put that ass all the way down on that dick. Come on, all the way in."
"UGHNN!" Zach winced as he dug his toes into the carpet behind Sir, hesitantly lowering his sore hole down on Sir's giant cock.
"Now slide it out."
"UGHNN!" Zach exhaled, raising his hips, his muscular torso flexing, sweating, heaving.
"Back down. Yah, ride him like that."
"UGHNNN!" Zach grunted as he impaled himself on Sir's big black cock.
"Pull up. Back down, nice and slow. Yah, keep it like that." Daddy's play-by-play instructions turned Zach crimson.
"UGHNNNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN!!!" Zach moaned, wrapping his hole around Sir's entire cock.
"Good boy, massage his fucking dick with that ass. Make your Sir feel good."
"UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN!!!!" Reluctantly, Zach reached up and began feeling the hardness of Sir's torso, grinding his hips and ass on top of Sir's turgid cock, fucking himself, impaling himself, swallowing and gripping Sir's cock, bouncing down on it, slamming his ass on it, harder and faster.
"That's it. Bounce that ass. Bounce it. Open up that fucking ass." Daddy was pleased to see the corners of Zach's mouth curl up ever so slightly into a smile as he grunted and cried and whimpered.
"UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN!!!!"
"Say `Fuck me, Sir!"
"UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN! (Fuck... fuck me, Sir...)" Zach echoed feebly, and Sir immediately took back control of the fucking, pulling Zach's thick legs over his shoulders, bending the jock in half as Zach was lowered to the ground and immediately began pounding away.
"UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNNNNN! UGHNNNNNNNN!!!!!!" Zach threw his head back as he cried like a girl, the pitch of his cracking, hoarse voice climbing higher and higher with every thrust. His toes curled, and his ankles locked behind Sir's head as his hole withstood slam after slam, deeper, harder, deeper.
"That's it...that's it boy... make your Sir cum inside you..." Zach's back arched off the floor when Sir reached and wrapped his hands around the athlete's neck... his 10-inch cock at full mast, standing straight up from his crotch, flinging dribbles of precum as he got pounded "Squeeze that dick... Squeeze that dick... You like that, don't you, son?"
"UGHN! Yes.. UGHN!! YES! UGHNN!!!"
"What do you say to Sir, boy?"
"UGHNN! CUM... CUM... IN ME! PLEASE SIR! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!!!! HARDER! CUM... CUM... PLEASE CUM IN ME... BREED ME... I NEED IT... I NEED YOUR CUM! UGHNN! UGHNNN!!!!!!!"
Suddenly, looking up at Sir, Zach finally realized why Sir was hooded. There were flashing red dots everywhere in that basement. Cameras. Recording. This. Whole. Time. But he couldn't not squeal like a slut it, he couldn't stop begging for Sir's cock and cum as he felt Sir's hands tighten around his throat.
"OH GOD OH GOD UGHN! OH GOD! UGHNN! UGHNNN!!!!"
All Zach could do was cover his face with his hands, as he whimpered and screamed and sobbed like a cheap whore, knowing he was ruined forever, knowing he would cum any second now getting fucked like this... on camera. He couldn't believe he'd said those words, begging, pleading, to get bred. He didn't even remember how he acquired `breed me' as part of his vocabulary. He just knew he wanted Sir to keep fucking him, harder. To fuck him past his limits. To hurt him. Zach wanted more of the pain, wanted to be choked out. The athlete wanted Sir's cum inside him. He wanted to cum with a big black cock buried deep inside him.
Zach began sobbing into his hands... his ankles still locked tightly behind Sir's head, his toes flexing in the air. He hated himself for loving every second of Sir's abuse. He hated hearing himself squeal and whimper. He hated how turned on he was by Daddy's humiliating words. He hated how hard his own cock throbbed with every slam from Sir. He hated he knew Sir was close to cumming inside him due to the increased, frenzied pace by which he was getting fucked. He hated his cock pissing so much precum that his tight abs were completely coated and glistening. He hated himself for wishing Sir would choke him harder. He hated the thrill, the overwhelming high he felt when Sir finally dumped his load inside him, filling his jock hole to the brim. He hated his own girlish, pathetic whimper as his own cock exploded with jock cum, covering his face and chest. He hated himself for wishing Sir would remain inside him. He hated his disappointment when Sir withdrew that footlong, dripping cock from his cummy, worn hole.
"Fuck.. Jesus Christ... oh my God... oh my God..." Zach laid there, spent, trembling and quivering, covered in sweat and cum, unaware that, in addition to blowing thick globs of jock cum onto himself, he had just experienced his first anal orgasm. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't stop shaking, buckling... whimpering, feeling the fullness of hot cum deep inside his jock ass.
...
"Every time you win at home, you come straight here, you got it, Zachy? Daddy will help you celebrate..."
"..."
"You go that, son?"
"Yes... yes Daddy..." Zach grunted as he tried to pull his naked, abused body off the floor while holding in Sir's cum, desperately looking for his clothes.
"Every touchdown you score, you get another cock, you got that boy?"
"..." Everything hurt. Zach's back and knees and elbows were rubbed raw, his meaty legs still quivering, his semi-flaccid cock aching, his big, full balls drained. He wanted to touch his stretched hole so badly, to feel it gape, to feel how wet it is, to... to lick his fingers... to taste Sir's cum.
"YOU GOT THAT BOY?"
"Yes... Daddy..."